Shifting Circles
by Qwi-Xux
Summary: When Briar returns to Winding Circle, he immediately finds himself thrown into a plot that will affect not only Emelan, but the mage world as a whole. SandryXBriar fic, co-written with Sache8 --COMPLETE
1. Prologue

Hellllo, everyone! This is a story that will be written by Saché8 and me. It's posted under my screenname, but you will be told whenever I'm writing, or she's writing. First of all, I would like to say right off that this IS a Sandry/Briar fic, so there's no need to ask that it be a S/B story or a T/B story...we already have the story planned out. ;-)

Secondly, neither Saché or I own the Circle of Magic/Circle Opens characters or any of the lands therein. .

As it stands now, we will be alternating chapters--Saché will be writing chapter one, I will do chapter two, and so on. The author will still be noted before each chapter, though. While the prologue is very short (only a page long) the other chapters are all pretty lengthy. :-)

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PROLOGUE

by Qwi-Xux

In a large house set in the upper class section of Emelan, not far from the Duke's palace, a meeting was taking place. There was a private study in the back of the room. Piles of books were neatly arranged on bookshelves and a large desk. Papers were set in order beside the books on the desk.

Maps of Emelan hung on the wall. There was a detailed layout of Summersea near it, and an even more detailed graph of Winding Circle, the resident home for mages and mages-in-training. There were clippings from the local gazette that showed the feats of some of the mages of Winding Circle--and particularly, articles of the doings of a quartet of young mages that had become quite well known throughout Emelan, and indeed, far beyond its borders.

A tall, stately man sat behind the desk. While the curtains behind him were open, letting the bright sunshine in, there was a coldness to the room that had nothing to do with the temperature, but everything to do with the man sitting behind the desk.

"Of all the times for this to happen," Haman, the man at the desk, said tightly. "Just as we're about to put our plan into action, we suffer this interference."

The merchant sitting on one of the extra chairs in the room nodded. "We can't afford to change the day. The alliance of merchants will be causing the distraction three days hence."

"And they suspect nothing?" Haman demanded.

"Of course not. They think it's a simple strike against the trade laws in Emelan. They believe they're fighting for more rights for the merchants."

Haman tapped his chin thoughtfully. "This changes everything. Our priorities will have to change. Rosethorn and that infernal boy she trained are much more a threat than the dancer. Especially the boy--Briar," he spat out the name as if it had an unpleasant taste. "That they're returning now is extremely unfortunate. His relationship with Lady Sandrilene fa Toren could cause a huge problem." Fortunately, using Briar instead of the dancer wouldn't be a problem, at least as far as the magic was concerned. He had come into contact with Briar, and his magic, several years earlier, when the boy still lived at Discipline.

"What are you suggesting?" the merchant asked.

"I believe we are going to have to switch players. We will use Briar instead of the dancer," Haman stated.

"What of the dancer?" the merchant wondered.

"I have an idea for him. For now, though--the plant mages are due to arrive home tomorrow."

_Blast these accursed mages. They're always ruining everything. Yet another reason this plan must be carried out._


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

by Sache8

Briar Moss bit his lip, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. He leaned forward on the wagon-seat, craning his neck to get a better view of the path ahead.

"Sit down boy," said the pointed voice of Rosethorn. "I don't see why you would find the walls of Winding Circle to be so fascinating. They won't have changed them, you know."

"Easy for you to say," grumbled Briar. Nevertheless, he obediently settled back down beside his teacher, trying his best to relax, and failing.

"That's just it Rosethorn," he said. "I love it that things don't change. Winding Circle is home. It doesn't change. If you can't understand that well… too bad for you." He punched her playfully on the arm, and his silly grin got free of him again.

"What do you think of the news we had? At port?"

Briar frowned, and shrugged. "The Duke's son is dead." He idly picked up a piece of straw at his side and began fiddling with it.

"And?"

"And what?" he repeated. "I feel bad for the Duke certainly, but I didn't know the his son. Or the guy's wife. Don't rain on my parade, Rosethorn!"

"If you'd follow your good sense a little further than your stomach sometimes, you'd realize that this might concern you much more than you think."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, since I'm very hungry right now it might not be possible. So why don't we just stop with the guessing games, save ourselves a lot of time and trouble, and have you just tell me."

"The Duke's most direct descendent is dead. Where does that leave Emelan? The Duke will not live forever, you know. His health is failing as it is."

Briar paused. That was something he hadn't realized. "Sandry…" he began lamely.

"Exactly," she finished for him.

"What?" piped up a small voice behind them. "What is it?"

Briar turned to regard the wagon's other human passenger, a scrawny little girl with dark, lank hair and gently sloping eyes. At the moment, she also had dirt on her face, straw in her hair, and a kitten perched on her shoulder. The kitten was carefully looking for a way to climb down, and eventually the girl just plucked him off and held him instead.

"I thought you were asleep," said Briar said to his student, the onetime street-urchin and now turned-stone-mage Evumeimei Dingzai.

"Well, I can't sleep forever!" she said brightly. "So tell me, what's going on?"

"You remember I told you about my special friends here at Winding Circle?"

Evvy's nose wrinkled in a laugh. "All those girls? Yeah."

Briar pointedly ignored this jibe and continued. "Well, Sandry…" he began.

"The one who made my shirt," she interrupted, tugging on the large white shirt that was slightly too big for her.

It was indeed Sandry's handiwork, as evidenced by its cleanliness and lack of wear, even after a year and a half on the road. But she hadn't made it for Evvy, she'd made it for Briar. Unfortunately, he could not wear it anymore, because in the time since he'd left Emelan he'd simply grown too big. And Sandry had not spelled the shirt to grow with its wearer. Idly, Briar wondered if that was something she could do. _Probably._

"Yes, that's the one," he confirmed to his student. He'd given all his shirts to Evvy. The breeches had been to big for her, so they were stored among the trio's belongings. He missed those clothes. They had been much more comfortable and practical than regular clothes. Not to mention they were a constant reminder of his friend.

"Anyway," he continued, "it seems that she is now in line to become the Duchess of Emelan."

As he said the words, his voice was impassive, but inside he was a little more confused. Of course, he'd always known Sandry was very high on the social ladder, but as a child he'd learned to treat the nobility with disdain. Since coming to Winding Circle there were only three nobles Briar had met that he'd come to respect, and the Duke and his great-niece were the only two he actually liked.

It had been easy to ignore Sandry's status when they were at Winding Circle. He had learned not to think of her in terms of her rank. He'd placed it in on obscure corner of his mind, and only paid attention to it when absolutely necessary.

In the city it would become more evident. She would become a different person. Still, she wasn't like most nobles, even then. She wasn't conceited or condescending, but truly…noble, caring, as nobles should be. She used her influence for sensible and practical purposes, to help her people. Exactly what the noble class always should have been, in his opinion. But in those moments she seemed miles away from her friends, and Briar never knew how to behave. It was quite intimidating.

Evvy's voice interrupted his thoughts. "So…" she said. "She'll be the Duchess someday?"

Her voice was a little nervous, and for good reason. Evvy's experience with the nobility thus far in life hadn't exactly endeared her to them. In fact, her run in with one particular power-hungry noble in Chummar had inclined her to be downright afraid.

"Yeah," he agreed idly, "someday."

_I wonder, what will it be like then? What will happen__ to Sandry and the rest of us?/_

All of a sudden the clop-clop of the mules' hooves seemed to grate on his nerves in the worst way. He began to get fidgety again. He barely listened as Rosethorn carried on the conversation with Evvy that Briar was too distracted to properly conduct.

"Okay, that's it!" he said suddenly. He jumped up and vaulted neatly over the side of the wagon to the ground. "I can get there quicker walking than I can in this wagon. I'll see you at Discipline, Rosethorn!" He began trotting away and turned back to wave.

Rosethorn grabbed a handful of Evvy's shirt to prevent the girl from following him. No mean feat, considering she was also holding onto the reigns. "They're not going to be there, Briar!" she shouted after him.

"No, but the garden will!"

Rosethorn laughed, and shook her head.

:--:--:

"Paloma."

Paloma's head shot up at the sound of her master's voice. She hastily put her quill in its stand and scrambled out of her seat, straightening her dress and heading for the other room.

"Is there something you require, Master?" she began with a small curtsey. As a dancing student, her curtsey was graceful and perfect.

Paloma stood in awe of her master. She could never understand why Haman, one of the greatest mages of Lightsbridge had chosen her of all people for an assistant. She didn't even have any magic, and yet he had kept her.

"Only your attention, child," he said calmly, with a kind smile. "I need to tell you that unfortunately, I will not be able to enlist your services as we had discussed previously."

Paloma's heart and face fell together. "Why?" she blurted out and then covered her mouth with her hand. Her master was fair and generous, but he did not like rudeness.

Haman seemed not to have noticed, however. "We were forced to change the plan," he said matter-of-factly. "Or one of its players, rather, to be more specific."

Paloma frowned, and concentrated for a moment, seeing if she could guess her master's train of thought before he told her. What 'players' had been part of the plan? The Duke, of course. And his niece. They had to be killed, something that her master was very sad about. But as he said, it was for the greater good of the region, and her master was never wrong. Since the whole point of the plan was to destroy noble pair, it wasn't likely that they were the 'players' who had changed.

Who else then? If he didn't need Paloma anymore…

"The dancer!" she cried. "You're not going to frame the dancer anymore!"

"Quite right," he said, "very good my dear. No, a more serious threat has turned up. That plant-mage has returned to Emelan, and it would be good for us to get him out of the way. He's a dear friend of the Lady Sandrilene, you know, and extremely powerful.

Paloma nodded.

"So we'll be using him instead of Acalon," Haman added.

Paloma swallowed, and tried in vain to hide her disappointment. "So you don't need me to help you with the spell," she concluded.

"Oh don't look so upset Paloma," he said with a smile. "No, I will not require your assistance in that manner. I have, however, thought of another way in which you might help."

She brightened again, and this time made no effort to conceal it.

"I am writing a letter to Mistress Yazmin, of the dance academy here in the Summersea. Requesting that she take you as a student."

Paloma gasped. "Me?" she squeaked. Dancing was a small-time hobby of hers, something her master had always indulged her in. How happy she was that this sideline interest was now proving to be useful to his efforts! But all the dance classes she'd taken so far had been small potatoes compared to studying under Mistress Yazmin.

"Yes, I want you to see if you can make friends with this dance-mage, since for right now we won't be using him. I don't know yet how I might make use of your presence there, but it is always a good idea to open opportunities that may be drawn on in the future. You must be a pair of eyes and ears for me."

He got up, walked around the desk, and leaned down. He placed his hands on Paloma's shoulders and looked her gravely in the eyes. "What I am asking you to do is very serious, Paloma. Although it is not a pleasant thought, you will be in effect acting as a spy for me. I know it seems hard, but you know why we must do this."

Paloma matched the gravity of his voice with her nod. "Emelan must be conquered, because it is holding back the mages of Lightsbridge, and their great work," she pronounced obediently.

"Very good, yes," he said. "You understand." He patted her head affectionately, and bid her leave to go.

As Paloma stepped back out into the antechamber, she took a deep steadying breath as many conflicting emotions began a furious battle inside her. She was thrilled at the prospect of helping the cause, nervous about coming out from behind her master's wing, excited about getting to attend the dance academy (for its own sake), and afraid of her potential failure.

She could not concentrate on her work properly for the rest of the afternoon.

:--:--:

As Briar had drawn closer and closer to the cottage, his excitement and impatience had become increasingly more acute, until he reached the point where he was almost frantic to get there.

But at long last, he finally reached the front gate, slowing down as he reached it.

Not much had changed. He grinned. Just the way he liked it. True, the garden didn't have the lustrous effect it had when under the direct care of Briar and Rosethorn, but that was only temporary. The plants were still quite healthy, and obviously still loved by someone, even if that person didn't have plant magic. Briar made a mental note to kiss Lark when he saw her.

Briar yelped as something curled around his arm, tickling him and jolting him out of his reverie. Then he laughed as he looked down to see one of the climbing vines from the front gate trying to climb around him.

"None of that now," he said, gingerly pulling the vine away and wrapping it back around the gate post, "I just want to go see Lark and I'll be right back out, I promise."

The leaves, shriveled a little, then withdrew farther from him haughtily. Briar laughed again, and progressed up the path.

_How great it would be for Little Bear to come bounding out right now_… he thought wistfully. But that was not to be. Little Bear, the four friends' giant, over-exuberant dog, was with Tris right now, and Tris most certainly was not at home.

As he opened the front door, Briar drew his magic even more tightly around him. If Lark was home, he wanted to surprise her. He'd already been keeping a low magical profile, because he didn't want Sandry (and possibly Daja) to know he was back until he saw them. It would be much more fun that way.

From what he was able to tell, Daja may or may not be back yet. He hadn't risked his magic to find out, because that would ruin the surprise. But she and Frostpine had been due back sooner than Briar and Rosethorn, which meant that they would probably be arriving any day. At any rate, she was likely to be able to detect him mind-to-mind now, so it was best to play it safe.

He tiptoed into the front walkway and smiled as he heard the familiar click-clack of the loom in the workshop to the left, and the murmur of low voices. He took in a good, deep breath of home-smell, taking delight in all the memories it brought.

It brought memories to his stomach too, and he decided he must rearrange his priorities: Say hi to Lark first, eat something second, and then go visit his garden.

Still tiptoeing, he crept to the doorway and peered carefully around its edge.

Lark was seated in the center, working away quite industrially, and giving instructions to a short, mouse-faced boy who was sorting full spindles of thread. This must be the new boy- Comas or something like that- that Sandry had written him about.

"I thought you only worked with wool during the new moon," he said, sauntering into the doorway and leaning against the jamb, arms crossed and a smile on his face.

Lark didn't even look up. "No, we like silk too. But wool and silk both come from animals, so neither are your cup of tea, Briar Moss."

After a moment's silence the twinkle in Lark's eye got too bright for her to contain, and she looked up at Briar. They both burst out laughing.

He walked over and gave her a big, laughing hug, delivering the promised kiss on her forehead. "For my plants," he said. He was surprised to find that he was now a full inch taller than Lark.

She put her hands on his shoulders. "Welcome home!" she cried, and gave him another hug. "I can see you're still part weed, after all. You sure sprouted like one."

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

Lark gave a knowing smile. "Well Rosethorn said you would be coming home soon. And to expect you any day."

Briar groaned. "She told you? She knew I wanted…"

"She also said," interrupted Lark, "not to tell anyone else about it."

Briar breathed a sigh of relief. "I might have gotten really angry."

Lark accompanied him out into the main room, and introduced him to Comas, who nodded and didn't seem inclined to use his voice. Then she looked beyond Briar to the front door. "Where is Rosethorn?"

Now it was Briar's turn to have a twinkle in his eye. "Eh," he said with a shrug, "she was too slow for me. I think she's getting old." He gave a small wink.

Lark raised her eyebrows and tried not to smile.

"Listen, Lark. Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving. I haven't eaten since lunch."

"That long, huh? Well, sure Briar, but don't you want to say hi to Sandry first?"

Briar, who had already been halfway to the pantry, stopped short and turned around. "Sandry? You mean she's here? I thought she lived in the city now."

"She does," said Lark, walking to the kitchen window and pulling back the curtain to look into the backyard, "but the Duke gave her an executive order to take a vacation. So she's staying here for a few weeks."

Briar gave a small, joyous jump and headed for the staircase to the bedrooms upstairs.

"Briar…" Lark called.

He turned around again. "What?"

"She's in the garden."

He frowned. "In the garden? Why?"

"She made some new ties for your tomato plants. She went out to change them over an hour ago, so I suspect she's working on something else too."

Mumbling his thanks to Lark, Briar slipped as quietly as possible outside.

And there he saw her.

She was kneeling in the sunlight among the flowerbeds, wearing a pair of gloves, and pulling weeds.

_The future Duchess of Emelan is pulling weeds in my garden._

The Lady Sandrilene fa Toren had always been pretty. Oval shaped face, honey-brown hair, a pert little nose, eyes of cornflower blue, and a neat figure. Combine that with her natural grace- it made for a charming effect. Sandry was admired by almost everyone who met her.

Indeed, these charms hadn't been completely lost even on a twelve-year-old former thief. He'd teased her mercilessly when they were younger, in the manner of schoolchildren on the playground, partially because it was so fun to make her mad, and partially because she looked so cute when she was annoyed.

But 'pretty' or 'cute' didn't seem to be the right words to use now. She'd become beautiful. Radiant, really.

Briar's steps slowed as he watched her, and in half a heartbeat…he fell in love.

It wasn't just her beauty. He'd met many pretty girls in his life. It was the look on her face just now that sent strange warmth flooding up and down his body. It was so… serene and caring. Sandry's simple kindness touched everything she did. He knew she was tending his garden to please him when he got back. She thought of things like that.

Although Briar was still keeping his connection to Sandry closed, he was making no such effort towards his plants. They were very aware of his presence. And they were making sure that everyone knew.

"Now cut that out!" Sandry's clear voice filled the afternoon sunlight as the petunias in her work area began shaking like crazy, sending sprays of pollen everywhere. She sneezed.

"Honestly!" she cried, straightening and putting her hands on her hips. "I know I'm not Briar, but I didn't think it was that bad! Behave!"

Briar choked back a laugh. She was using her 'duchess' voice, the one she pulled on unsuspecting villagers and other people the foursome often ran into trouble with. The sight of her bossing the flowers this way was enough to make anyone laugh. And it was all the more endearing to Briar.

Sandry bent down again, and started back into her work.

Almost hesitantly, Briar reached out the smallest of magic tendrils and began extending it towards her.

_Odd,_ he thought. _Five minutes ago I wouldn't have been nervous._

He watched breathlessly as his tendril reached its recipient.

Sandry froze. Her hands hovered over the earth, as her head slowly turned and looked in his direction.

"Hey duchess," he said softly.

"Briar!" she cried gleefully. She leapt up off the ground in a most unladylike fashion and bounded across the grass, and into his arms.

Laughing, he pulled her close and spun her around.

"You dolt!" she said again, hitting him gently across the back of his head when he pulled away, "why didn't you say you would be early?!"

"And miss the expression on your face just now?" he replied with a grin. "I don't think so."

"You got so tall!" Her eyes were large and round as she looked him up and down. "Turn around," she added, spinning her finger in the air.

Briar obliged her.

"Hmmph," she said disapprovingly, stepping up to his side and examining his sleeve. "Where did you get this?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm afraid that you didn't plan growth spurts into my wardrobe. I had to make do."

She laughed and grabbed his hand. "Come on!" She ran into the house, a still-dazed Briar following her.

:--:--:

Supper that night was a very merry occasion, full of laughter.

Sandry couldn't describe how happy she felt. She'd been so lonely here at home, all alone while her friends were off having adventures. Trying to juggle the responsibilities of training Pasco and helping her uncle run the province were starting to wear on her.

Pasco was good company, but in many ways he was still a child, and she did not share the special bond with him that she did with Briar, Tris, and Daja. Now that they were beginning to come home everything was going to be much better.

She didn't say much as they ate, only listened to the delightful sounds of Rosethorn and Briar's voices telling of their journey, accompanied by the usual dose of lighthearted bickering. She smiled. A sound she hadn't heard in such a long time.

Poor Comas looked as frightened as the day Sandry had first met him. She really wasn't very surprised. People in general intimidated him, which meant that Briar and Rosethorn were probably coming off like foghorns to the poor boy.

Lark had been keeping another boy at Discipline recently, whom Sandry had just met on her current respite here. His name was Ivren, a water-mage with a speech impediment. Sandry had felt sympathetic toward him, she knew how cruel other children could be, even at Winding Circle. Unlike Comas, however, Ivren wasn't one to take teasing by cowering. His confrontational nature had led him to be placed here.

He was literally hanging on Rosethorn's every word. Sandry barely noticed Rosethorn's halting speech anymore- a remnant of her near-death brush with the Blue Plague. But she knew that it would be of utmost importance to Ivren. Maybe Rosethorn would be a good role model for him.

Sandry wasn't quite sure what to make of Briar's little pupil, Evvy. The girl kept studying Sandry in fascination. She had been very distant at first, but had started warming up considerably after Sandry had spent a good half-hour cooing over her kittens. She'd even offered one to Sandry, a coal-dust-colored one with green eyes named Moss.

"Moss?" Sandry had asked. "That's Briar's last name."

"I know," the girl had replied confidently. "His real name is Briar, actually. Trust me, he's just like the real Briar. But I figured we could call him Moss so as not to get confused."

So now 'Moss' was comfortably set up in a box by Sandry's bed. Not that it especially made a difference, as all the other cats were currently up there as well. Lark and Rosethorn refused to have them in the room while they ate.

Sandry's chin was propped in her hand, her eyes on Briar, who was telling a lively story with a good deal of enthusiasm and hand motions. He kept sending glances her way, accompanied by many small, secret smiles.

Almost everything about him had changed, physically speaking. Gone was the lanky pre-adolescent frame. He was so tall now, and broadening. And his voice was deeper too. When he'd left, it had just started changing, something that she and the other girls had teased him about to no end. Sandry smiled into her hand at the thought. Now it was a smooth, rich baritone.

But not everything was different. His cropped black curls were the same, his swarthy skin just as dark, his wonderful white smile contrasting the dark complexion was just as striking…

Sandry sat up suddenly very straight, dropping her hand.

_What on earth am I saying? Striking smile? I never worried about Briar's smile before…when he starts smiling at me, it usually means I'd better run for it._

With a barely perceptible shake of her head to clear her thoughts, she went back to concentrating on Briar's story.

But it was in vain. She found she could not focus on what he was saying, as she suddenly started studying him with new eyes. He always had been a good-looking boy…and the way he looked now, well… she knew he would have many of the girls of Winding Circle giggling long into the night.

Sandry frowned. _Right now you're behaving just like one of those silly, giggling girls, Sandrilene fa Toren. Now cut it out and be sensible._

But she couldn't. Suddenly the idea of anyone giggling over Briar was making her feel…well… defensive.

She was not able to concentrate on the rest of the meal. She was too lost in thought and all-of-a-sudden very confused.

Lark must have noticed something was wrong when they did the evening dishes together.

"Are you okay sweetheart?"

"Hmmmn?" Sandry said, looking up at the sound of Lark's voice, a little daze-eyed. "Oh! Yes, I'm fine. It's just…it's been a long day, huh?"

"Yes, that it has," Lark replied. "But..," she added slowly, "a good one, I hope?"

"Oh most certainly," Sandry replied, with over-forced conviction. "Listen, do you mind finishing without me? We're almost done… I'll be in my room…"

And she walked off with soap still on her hands, leaving a chuckling Lark to finish alone.

"Here you are." Briar found Sandry in Tris's old room, staring blankly out the window.

She turned and offered up a small smile. "Hi," she said softly.

Briar swallowed, and walked over to stand beside her. For a few moments, they studied the paths of the garden below in the fading twilight. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his trouser legs.

"Strange to have you sleeping in here," he began awkwardly, looking around the room.

"Yeah...I'm trying not too move anything. You never know what kind of anti-stealing spells Tris might've left behind. Getting zapped is not the way I want to begin my day."

_Why won't she look at me?_ Panic filled him, and he brushed it off almost immediately. _For crying out loud Briar, stop acting like a pansy._

He hoped none of his pansies had detected that last comment.

"So…" he tried again, giving her a playful shove, "I hear you really are going to be a duchess. Imagine that, huh?"

Sandry sighed. "Please," she said, rolling her eyes, "don't remind me. I've already begun looking for a suitable replacement."

"Sandry, nobody could be more suitable than you." He was amazed at the sudden seriousness in his voice.

There was a moment's pause.

"Briar?" she spoke up suddenly.

"Yes?" he asked in kind, a little more quickly and eagerly than he would have liked.

She turned her face toward him, her beautiful eyes large and serene in the increasing moonlight. "When you were gone…did you miss me?"

"Now that's an obvious question," he said kindly, taking a step closer and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Everyday."

She leaned in with a sigh. "I missed you all so much. You have no idea how lonely I've been."

Briar didn't know what to say. He gulped nervously.

She picked up his hand and began slowly tracing the vine patterns he'd tattooed on his hands to cover the condemning thief-marks. The light, soft touch of her finger sent tingles up and down his whole body, and a shaky breath escaped suddenly from inside him.

She looked up again. "But you know," she said slowly, "I don't think I realized how much I missed you…I mean…" she faltered, "just you, until…" she trailed off. Her chin lifted, ever so slightly.

_I could kiss her right now._ he realized. _I could do it, and… she wouldn't be surprised._

In all likelihood, he probably would have done it too, had it not been for the delighted shriek of a child at play below the window. _Evvy,_ he realized, with a portion of his brain that seemed to still be connected to the real world. The spell of the moment was broken.

Suddenly Briar was acutely of where he was, what he was doing, whom he was with…and why he had to get away.

In a panic, he broke free of Sandry's grasp and fled to his room.


	3. Chapter Two

Thanks for the reviews, everyone!! Don't worry, this story will continue to be written--Sache and I just have to do it in between everything else we have going on in our lives. :-)

:--:--:

CHAPTER TWO

by Qwi-Xux

Briar closed the door to his room and made sure it was shut tightly. He walked over to his shakkan tree, placed back in its familiar shelf on the window. He remembered nailing the shelf into place shortly after he turned eleven. That had been so long ago...so much had happened since then.

He didn't know what to think about his encounter with Sandry. What had possessed him to flee her room? She was still up there--he could feel her, almost hear her thoughts through their bond--but he quickly blocked that off so he wouldn't invade her mind...and so she wouldn't invade his.

_What am I thinking? What happened just now? Was I really going to kiss her? There was something between us, I know it... This is ridiculous. She's my foster sister. Just a foster sister. There can never be anything else._

_What do I mean, 'anything else?' I don't want there to be anything else. You're a fool, Briar._

Still... His mind fell back on Sandry's sweet face as she had smiled at him just a few moments ago. What had she been thinking? What had he been thinking? Her words echoed in his mind. _"When you were gone, did you miss me?"_

He hadn't realized how much he had missed her. Yes, he had missed Tris and Daja, too...but not like this. He had never experienced anything like this before.

Briar was so confused. He sat on the mattress on the floor that served at his bed and stared out the window. "Things can't change," he muttered to his shakkan. "This is Winding Circle. This is home. Things aren't supposed to change."

A soft knock on his door turned his eyes away from the window. He searched his magic to find who was on the other side of the door, expecting it to be Sandry. She would certainly storm into his room and demand to know what he was doing, running off on her like he had.

To his surprise, it was Evvy. Briar sighed. He didn't have the energy to deal with his student right now. He hadn't seen her most of the day. She had been off exploring Discipline and the surrounding area, probably poking at different rocks and talking to other mage teachers. This place fascinated her. When she had been home, she had been in and out of his sight. The only decent length of time he had seen her had been at dinner, and she had been unusually silent during the meal. He thought it might have something to do with Sandry's nobility--he had told her time and again before they ever arrived that Sandry wasn't like other nobles, but she might have needed some time to see this for herself.

"Pahan Briar!" Evvy called impatiently through the door.

Briar stared at the door for a moment, then stood up and walked over to open it. Evvy was his responsibility. He opened the door and looked with raised eyebrows at the small girl. She had her hands tucked behind her back. Three cats were twisting around her legs, and one of them peeled off to rub against Briar. He glanced at the cat, then said, "Yes, Evvy?"

"Look what Pahan Lark gave me!" Evvy pulled her hands out from behind her back and held out a tiny bundle of silvery cloth.

Briar forced himself to be patient. "What is it?"

"It's a pouch for my rocks. Any spells I put in the rocks, anything at all, will be sealed inside this bag. No one will be able to tell there's magic in it, and I don't have to worry about any of it leaking out if I make a mistake in one of my rocks while I'm learning." She hopped back and forth from leg to leg excitedly. "I had told Lark about the accident with the quartz I had--remember how I had tried to put a protection spell into it, and an hour later, it exploded?"

Briar remembered that well--it had been within several feet of him at the time, and he had received several nasty scrapes due to the incident. "That's wonderful, Evvy--but remember, no unauthorized magic until you get better with the control. You've already mastered the smaller spells, but the ones we're working on now are more difficult."

Evvy nodded dutifully. "I won't, Pahan Briar." She gave him a quick grin and slipped off to head for the second floor, her cats in tow, where she was sharing a room with Sandry. Comas and Ivren were occupying the other two bedrooms.

Briar stepped back and closed the door.

It didn't take long before he actually did have Sandry at his door. She, unlike Evvy, knocked once and then pushed the door open and walked in without permission. He stared at her, his expression indiscernable. "What if I had been undressed?" he asked mildly.

Sandry stared at him, unabashed. "That's the last thing I'm worried about."

"What are you worried about, then?" Briar couldn't stay still. He stood up and walked over to his shakkan, turning his back on Sandry.

"I want to know why you came and hid in your room," Sandry stated.

Briar spun on her. "I'm not hiding!"

"What are you doing, then?" Sandry took a step closer to him. "Briar, something happened with us--or almost happened." Her face looked troubled and confused. "I don't know what it was, but maybe we could talk about it."

_Girls! Always wanting to talk about things!_ Briar thought in disbelief. "I don't want to talk about it." He didn't admit that he felt extremely uncomfortable with the situation--and now Sandry was standing so close...

She took another step nearer. "Briar, you're my best friend. We can talk about anything,"

Briar found himself pressed against the window, the shakkan at his back. "Not this," he said abruptly. He felt her starting to prod at their bond, and he quickly slammed a wall down on the connection.

Sandry stepped back, looking hurt. "All right, Briar." She gave him a sad smile and started to turn. "I'm upstairs, if you change your mind." She completed her turn and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

Briar ran his hands through his cropped black hair. "What am I doing?" he asked himself in exasperation. "What is wrong with me?"

The truth was poking at him, but he was trying to ignore it. He didn't want to face it. He didn't want things to change. His whole life, the only stable thing he had was his family here at Discipline. This...this change that was happening in him was something unexpected, something new--something that could lead to a lot of pain...but maybe a lot of happiness.

But Briar Moss wasn't used to having to deal with this. He had never dealt with a situation like this before, and honestly, he didn't know what to do about it.

Briar had never been in love before. Loved, yes--he loved Lark and the girls, and especially Rosethorn. He had never actually been in love with anyone, and he was so confused about the whole thing.

_Why? Why did this have to happen? Especially...especially with Sandry?_

There it was. That was the root of his problem. Sandry...beautiful, sweet, teasing Sandry. The noble who had stood up for everything she believed in. The mage who had faced earthquakes, fires, pirates, diseases, murderers...the Sandry who had worked so hard to conquer her fear of the dark. Brave, honest, loyal...that was his Sandry.

His Sandry...who was also Sandriline fa Toren. A noble. Heiress to Emelan. Future duchess.

And he was just Briar Moss. He had come a long way, but deep down, he would always be a street rat. The thief Roach would always be a part of his past. He was nobody, not as far as bloodlines went. He didn't know who his parents were--he barely remembered his mother. Compared to Sandry, he was nothing. _You're a kaq,_ Briar told himself, using a Trader insult. It literally meant 'dirt under foot.' _Maybe not in the mage world, but in Sandry's world..._

He didn't bother to think that Sandry's world was the mage world--she had so many responsibilities as far as her heritage went. She had the birthright of a duchess...he had the birthright of a pickpocket.

_No, Briar!_ he told himself fiercely. _You've come beyond that. You're past that._ He had honestly thought he was. He thought he had established himself enough in his new life that his old one could be just that--a thing of the past. Something forgotten. So why was it coming up now? _Because things are changing. Because you feel guilty._

He felt guilty because he had fallen in love with Sandriline fa Toren...and he didn't deserve her.

_I can't stay here. I have to leave. I need to get away from Winding Circle and clear my head,_ Briar thought.

He didn't bother leaving a note. He planned to be back by morning.

:--:--:

Sandry sighed to herself as she stared out the window of the second floor room. Even after spending nights here on occasion since moving to the city, she wasn't used to sleeping upstairs--she had given Comas her bedroom on the first floor when she moved into the Citadel with her great-uncle. This room had been Tris's. Daja's bedroom was occupied by Ivren. Daja usually slept at the forge when she was home, but whenever Tris got home, she might be a little touchier about having a bedroom to come back to.

Briar's student was sleeping on a mat on the floor, while Sandry used Tris's bed. Sandry was reminded of Briar in that--when she had asked Evvy if she wanted the bed, the girl had told her that she preferred the mat on the floor. She was now sitting on her makeshift bed, with what seemed like a dozen cats lying or sitting around her. Moss, the kitten Evvy had offered her, was creeping around the room, pouncing on a ball of catnip. Some of Evvy's cats, Sandry knew, were outside. The child seemed to have a never-ending supply of the animals. Sandry wondered with some amusement how Rosethorn had managed to put up with all of them on the long journey she, Briar, and Evvy had made.

_Briar... _

A tingle ran down Sandry's back as she thought about him. It had been such a surprise, seeing him appear in the garden. The emotions that came with seeing him again weren't at all what she had expected. She had expected to feel thrilled, yes, and excited, but there was something else that she couldn't quite identify.

Watching him throughout the evening as he chatted with Lark and dealt with Evvy, she realized how much he had grown in the time he had been gone. He was patient with Evvy, and took her excited comments and questions in stride, although she did notice that in some things, he quipped at her, and sounded very much like Rosethorn. It made her want to laugh. Briar as a teacher was a strange thing...just as strange as she being a teacher, she supposed. Except Evvy seemed a lot more patient and eager to learn than Pasco ever did. Pasco was easily distracted by things, and impatient to move onto more interesting things half the time.

Briar had changed, even if he didn't see it...or maybe he didn't want to see it.

And as the evening had gone by, she began to realize just how deep her feelings for Briar Moss went. She wondered if they had always been there, and she just hadn't noticed them until now. Maybe it had taken Briar going away for so long before she had been able to realize the truth...the truth that she loved Briar. /Love...more than as a foster-brother/ Sandry admitted to herself.

Just a little bit ago, there had been sparks between them...something could have happened, might have happened, if Briar hadn't run from the room. It hurt her to think that he didn't want to talk to her. She couldn't understand what she had done to upset him.

As she gazed out the window, she suddenly saw a dark figure slip around the side of the cottage and out through the front gate. By the posture and the way the person walked, she immediately realized it was Briar. Where was he going? Maybe he just needed to take a walk or something...

"Pahan Sandry?" Evvy piped up from her bed.

Sandry turned her attention on the rock-mage. "Yes, Evvy?" At least Evvy was talking to her now--it had taken her a while to warm up to Sandry.

"You're not like any noble I've ever met. You're actually nice to people."

That was the last thing Sandry had expected her to say. "Well, thank you. I think nobles should be treated like everybody else--they shouldn't be all high and mighty. It's a noble's duty to put his or her people above her, no matter what." She almost laughed at her own words, realizing how 'teacherly' they sounded. She had been around Pasco too long.

Evvy smiled. "I don't know much about duchesses, but I think you'll be a good one." She paused. "As long as you don't change. Some nobles change when they get more power." Her lips tightened, and then she yawned. Pushing her cats gently aside, she slid down on her bed. "I hope you don't get like all the other nobles. I think Briar's kinda worried about that, too."

That was a revelation. Briar, worried about her changing because she was going to be a duchess? How silly! Could that be what he was scared of? Sandry studied Evvy for a moment. For an eleven-year-old, the girl had quite a bit of insight. Of course, Briar was her teacher, so she might see things about him others missed. _I'll just have to reassure Briar when he comes back. Maybe I'll talk to him in the morning. I'm a bit tired, too._

Sandry's dreams were filled with dark shadows and menacing figures. Nothing was quite clear, but when she woke up, she found herself stifling a scream. Sweat poured down her forehead. She couldn't figure out what she had been dreaming, but she knew that something horrible was wrong.

She glanced over at the pallet next to her bed, and saw Evvy sleeping peacefully, her cats tucked in about her. She grabbed hold of her link to Briar, thinking she would find him asleep in his room. To her surprise, he wasn't at Discipline. He wasn't even at Winding Circle. _Briar?_ she called mentally, suddenly fearing that something had happened to him.

It took him a moment to answer. _What, Sandry?_ His telepathic voice had sort of a sigh in it. She got the feeling he just wanted to be left alone. A moment later, he wondered,_ What are you doing up so late? _

_Something happened,_ Sandry explained_. I don't know what, or to whom. Where are you? _

_Out. Thinking. _

_Will you...will you come back now?_ She had an overwhelming fear of being alone right now. Briar, Tris, and Daja had always been able to help her figure out what was wrong before. Yes, Lark and Rosethorn were here, but it would never be the same thing.

_It's almost dawn. I was heading back anyway._ Briar told her. His mental voice softened as he sensed her trepidation. _It will be fine, Sandry. We'll figure out what's wrong. _

Sandry cut off the conversation, and she immediately felt her links to Lark and Rosethorn. Her link to Lark was a lot stronger than her link to Rosethorn, but she was able to tell they were fine. They were both sleeping. Her next thought was of Pasco, and her Uncle Vedris, Duke of Emelan. A quick look at Pasco's link told her he was also asleep, in his own home in Summersea. It was when she reached for her connection to her uncle that she ran into a problem.

It wasn't there. While Vedris didn't have any magic of his own, and the bond Sandry had to him went one way, she was usually able to tell where he was. It was weaker the farther away from Summersea she got--nowhere near as strong as her connections to her magical companions--but when she was in Winding Circle, she was normally able to get a weak sparkle showing that he was in Summersea.

And now there was nothing.

What did it mean? Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Or worse...was he dead?

No. That wasn't a possibility. He had survived so much. He couldn't be dead.

Still, something deep in her heart told her otherwise.

Sandry jumped out of bed and hurriedly threw on a simple, light cotton dress. She couldn't bother to deal with her hair, so she grabbed one of the kerchief that Tris had left behind and threw it over her head. Her appearances weren't what was important now.

Without waking Evvy, Sandry hurried down the stairs and knocked on Lark's door. Fortunately, Lark was a light sleeper and woke immediately. Sandry quickly explained that something was wrong with the Duke, and she was taking a horse and riding to Summersea.

It was then that she remembered to contact Briar. _Briar? Change of plans. I think something happened to my uncle--I'm headed for Summersea. Will you meet me at the Citadel? _

_Sure thing,_ Briar said. Sandry could feel the worry in his mind, and his determination to be there for her.

Within ten minutes, Sandry was on her steed, racing out of Winding Circle.

She was halfway to the Citadel when she was met by a company of guards. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Sandry's heart sped up when she recognized them as the Citadel's guard. She halted her horse. "What happened?" she demanded.

The lead guard, a man she had seen around the Citadel but whose name she did not know, didn't seem surprised to see her. With all of the things the occupants of the Citadel had seen of Sandry in the last year, they were hard-pressed to be surprised by the things she did or knew. He put his chin up and said, "I'm sorry, milady. The Duke has been murdered."

The words echoed in Sandry's head. _Murdered._..the Duke has been murdered... She found herself unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything except stare at the guards in utter disbelief.

When she finally found her voice again, she managed to choke out, "By whom?" She was surprised she wasn't feeling very much right now. Shouldn't she be panicking, hurting, sobbing, anything? Why did she feel so numb?

"We don't know, milady. We were sent to fetch you, and also also fetch plant mages at Winding Circle," the guard answered.

"Plant mages?" Sandry heard herself talking, but she felt strangely detached from her own body. "Why?"

"They've sent for harriers, and harrier-mages, but we didn't need a harrier-mage to tell us this murder involved magic," the guard replied. "He was killed with plants, milady. That is no normal occurrence...it was obvious from looking at him that he was killed with magic."

"Plants?" Sandry repeated dumbly. How could he be killed by plants? Most of the known plant mages in Emelan lived at Winding Circle.

"Not a pretty sight at all."

That comment seemed to snap something in Sandry. Utter grief washed over her, waves of it slamming into her very soul all at once. She had lost her uncle, the only blood family she had here, the only blood family that cared for her. No! How could this have happened? How, how, how?

Sandry struggled not to double over from the onslaught of anguish raging through her. Fighting back tears, she tried to speak, but choked on her voice. As best she could, she drew up her composure. "Continue on. I will go to the Citadel."

"Some of our men will accompany you, milady," the lead guard told her.

"That's not necessary," Sandry argued.

"Necessary or not, we will accompany you." He waved several of his men to go with Sandry.

Sandry's emotions were in too much turmoil to argue with him. She gave a nod, then took off for the Palace. As soon as she started out, Briar's anxious voice echoed in her head. _Sandry? Sandry, what happened? _

He must have felt her pain. _My uncle...my uncle..._ How could she say the words, even think them? She didn't want it to be true.

_Oh, stop it Sandry. You've dealt with death. Your parents, hundreds of people...you've killed before. Death is nothing new,_ she told herself fiercely. She had to hold up this resolve. She had to keep her head. There would be an investigation. She would have to deal with that...and...and...

It abruptly hit her that she was now the Duchess of Emelan. Briar had teased her about it only yesterday...

The weight of the situation settled on her shoulders. There was so much more to deal with than she was sure she could handle.

_Sandry? Sandry? _

She only then realized that Briar was trying to get her attention. _Briar, Uncle Vedris...please, just come to the Citadel..._ She wanted to tell him in person, not mind-to-mind. She didn't even know if she could say it right now without breaking down, and she did not want to do that in front of the guards.

_I'm coming, _Briar said immediately. He sent a wave of comfort and protection through their connection, but Sandry felt immune to it.

Several moments after he ended their conversation, she sensed someone she hadn't expected at all. The voice was faint, fainter than Briar's, but it came through very strongly. It was a voice she hadn't heard for a long time. _Sandry?_ The mental voice was full of concern.

_Daja? What...where are you?_ Sandry was utterly shocked to hear from her, and it gave her mind a temporary distraction.

_A couple of days outside of Winding Circle. I was going to wait and surprise you, but something's happened._ That was Daja, calm and sturdy, stating the facts.

_My..._ Sandry still didn't know if she could say it, but Daja...Daja had the feel of the strength of iron. She couldn't tell Daja in person, not for several more days. _You can do it, Sandry. You can say it,_ one part of her mind said. _If you say it, it will make it real,_ another part whispered. She pressed her lips tightly together and got it out in a rush. _My uncle was murdered by a plant mage, and I'm on my way to the Citadel._ There. She had done it. She had admitted it...and now, it was as if a sword and shoved its way through her heart. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back fiercely. She could not break right now.

Daja didn't question why she wasn't already at the Citadel. She just said, _Oh, saati, I'm so sorry._

Sandry was slightly comforted by hearing Daja's voice, and being called _saati_ again. She squeezed her eyes shut. _I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry. _Sandry swallowed a lump in her throat. At least she would have Briar and Daja to get her through this.

_Frostpine and I will be there as soon as we can, Sandry. _

When Sandry reached the Citadel, she found one of the Acalons already outside. Pasco Acalon, her student, was nowhere to be found. Of course, he wasn't a harrier, like his family--he was a dance mage. Even so, he had been instrumental in helping Sandry defeat several murderers the summer before.

She had begun to find it suspicious that six months earlier, the Duke's son and daughter-in-law had died in what had been labeled an accident, and now the Duke had been murdered. Was it coincidence?

Sandry made her way into the Citadel, past the guards and harriers, winding her way to the place of the murder--the Duke's bedroom. When she got there, she found Baron Erdogun fer Baigh, who was a dear friend of her uncle, standing outside. He stopped her before she could reach the open door. "Lady Sandrilene, I know that I cannot stop you from going in there, but I will warn you that it is a very unpleasant sight."

Sandry drew herself up. "I know. But I must see it."

Erdogun nodded. "Be careful, milady."

Fear and trepidation chased each other through Sandry as she stepped toward the door. Her throat closed up, and she knew if she tried to speak right now, nothing would come out. She heard voices inside--harriers and harrier-mages, no doubt. Pain raced through her very veins, and she couldn't still her shaking legs. She stepped through the doorway and stared at the room in utter horror.

Nothing could have prepared her for the scene in front of her.


	4. Chapter Three

Thanks for all the reviews! Glad you're enjoying it! Oh, and to Lady Sandrilene, who asked about the truthsayers-Saché and I already have that plotted out. You'll see. And Saché says kudos-it's nice to have readers that keep us on our toes. ;-) Also, I am supposed to note that I wrote a tiny part of this chapter, although most of the genius in it is Saché's. -Qwi-Xux

:-:-:

CHAPTER THREE

by Sache8

Briar had sought his solace in the grain fields several miles outside the walls of Winding Circle. Here the mages of Earth Temple grew a great portion of the mages' food supply. Much of it was sold in the Summersea markets too. Grain grown by Earth mages fetched a healthy price.

The quiet rows of half-grown corn were an ideal place for someone who wanted to get lost in thought. Briar wandered listlessly up and down, reaching out an occasional hand to brush the leaves and stalks of corn, taking comfort in their simplicity. If only the rest of life was as easy to figure out as his plants were. They never wanted much. They never made him confused.

But now he was steadily making his way to Summersea…and Sandry. Her urgent mental request had set him on edge, and he was getting more and more nervous as he imagined things that could be wrong, each more terrible than the last. She said something was wrong with the Duke…

The sun finally peaked over the horizon. He was heading west, on the Summersea road. The road followed the shoreline of the bay, and the sunlight striking the water in the early morning haze would have ordinarily made him stop to admire, but he was too preoccupied.

He ran into more and more traffic as the morning progressed, and as he got closer to the city. He searched peoples' faces for possible recent gossip regarding Duke Vedris, but nothing seemed promising. The first sign that anything was amiss did not come until the city walls were actually in sight.

It was not from the city, however, that the sign occurred, but from behind him. The frantic sound of galloping hooves and rattling wheels caused him to turn. He was not altogether surprised to see Rosethorn coming up behind him, perched atop the same wagon they'd arrived in, and accompanied by a handful of the Citadel guard.

"Climb in," instructed Rosethorn. The wagon and its escort slowed and stopped, allowing Briar a moment to scramble up.

"Sure, now they decide to pick it up," he said grumpily, indicating the mules with a wave of his hand.

Rosethorn chose not to comment on this. "Here," she said instead, handing him a bundle wrapped in cloth, which proved to contain some bread and cheese from the pantry. She frowned at his bedraggled appearance. "Don't you even have shoes?"

"I wasn't planning on a walk to Summersea, Rosethorn."

The mules began to pick up the pace again as Rosethorn urged them on.

"What were you doing out so late anyway?"

"Thinking," he mumbled. He very carefully did not look at her when she said this.

Rosethorn clucked her tongue and said nothing.

They rode in silence the rest of the way.

:-:-:

Sandry had seen many a gruesome sight in her short life. She thought of the demise of the murderers that she and Pasco had captured together. That had not been a pretty sight, and it was one she would just as soon forget.

But it was nothing, nothing to what she was looking at now.

The Duke's sleeping chamber was a forest of thorns.

They trailed down from the ceiling and the cracks between the wooden planks of the floor. She followed them with her eyes to where they met in the middle of the bed, where they had twisted, choked, and overcome the body of her uncle.

_It's a good thing the bedclothes are already red._

Sandry closed her eyes. She felt dizzy…

Her escort looked on nervously as Sandry ran hurriedly to the nearby washbasin.

_It's like they think a lady isn't allowed to throw up or something._ She thought, noting the expression on their faces as she finally raised her head. She swallowed, and fought the tears that now wanted to follow the nausea.

As delicately as possible, Sandry took a drink from the pitcher at her elbow and tried to clean the bitter taste out of her mouth. Then she straightened, and with a shuddering sigh, she turned back around.

"When did you find him?" she asked as calmly as possible. Her voice was still wavering, however.

Pasco's uncle stepped forward. "About an hour ago, my lady. The maidservant who comes to light the fire. My lady…" he trailed off.

"What is it?"

The man looked downright uncomfortable. "No one heard anything," he finally said. "No screaming, nothing. Whoever did this managed it with a great deal of finesse."

"And power," she added with a sigh.

She somehow worked up the nerve to walk closer to the bed. Erdogun leaned forward as if in protest, but she stopped him with a motion of her hand.

Reaching the foot of the bed, and careful to not look directly at the revolting sight in its center, Sandry reached up a small hand to the bedpost. A vine of thorns had wound its way around it, cutting deep scratches in the beautiful dark cherry. It had ripped the bed curtains on its way down toward its victim.

Sandry gingerly reached out her finger and ran it along the smooth side of a thorn, careful to keep away from its wicked sharp point.

Something in her finger began to tingle with familiarity. She knew that feeling…it was a part of her, and yet not completely her. In fact, she'd felt it very recently. When, heart pounding, she'd picked up Briar's hand in hers not so very long ago.

Sandry recoiled as if bitten and stepped back away from the bed, her face going pale. "Briar?" she whispered in shock. Confused, she stepped forward, and touched the vine again, this time with many fingers.

She gulped. There was no denying it.

This was Briar's magic.

:-:-:

When Briar and Rosethorn reached the Duke's Citadel, they found another group of the Duke's honor guard ready and waiting to escort them to the scene of the crime.

"I'm glad you're here," the captain, a man named Penmic told them frankly. "Her eminence is very distraught about something, but refuses to tell us what's wrong. Perhaps you might persuade her to be more forthcoming."

"Her eminence?" Briar asked, confused.

The guard threw him a curious sidelong glance as they walked briskly through the stone courtyard.

"My Lady Sandrilene," he prompted, "the Duchess of Emelan."

Briar hissed quietly through his teeth, feeling stupid. Of course that was what the guard had meant. How could he have forgotten? He'd been thinking about that very possibility only half the day yesterday.

"How do you know she's not just grieving for her uncle and just wants you to leave her alone?" snapped Rosethorn.

Penmic seemed a little taken aback, but much to his credit he did not back down. "Dedicate," he said, "I've known the lady for a few months now. And I've known her uncle for longer. She's not just grieving, trust me. She's hiding something."

With the quick pace the guard set, it did not take long for them to reach the Duke's quarters. In the antechamber, they found Sandry, a few nobles, some more guards, and a few harriers all meandering around talking in low voices. There was a hazy, dismal atmosphere about the place, that even the morning sunshine streaming through the window could not seem to dispel.

Briar and Rosethorn lurked in the doorway for a moment, surveying the scene. Sandry was wearing a plain dress. She had a shawl on and her hair was down, covered over by one of Tris's trademark scarves. Briar also noted that she still hadn't taken off her shoes.

"When do we tell the city?" An older, harried looking gentleman was asking her.

Sandry, who was turned slightly away from the newcomers, shook her head woefully. "I don't know. I just don't know. I assume," she added, "that you mean an official announcement. Because I have no doubt that half the city actually knows by now. I estimate that everyone will know by noon at least." She put her hands on her temples and rubbed. Her eyes were weary. She looked as if she'd aged ten years in seven hours.

Sandry finally looked over at them. Relief, panic, and sorrow filled her eyes, and she rushed over with as much dignity as she could muster. She almost seemed as if she wanted to give him an embrace, but she stopped short with hesitation at the last second and did not.

_Of course,_ he thought bitterly, _that wouldn't be appropriate, given the present company._

"There's something I want you to see," she said softly. "It's…not…but I found something… You have to tell me what you think."

Her demeanor puzzled Briar. She was almost nervous about something, and he realized that this is what Penmic had been referring to. The man had been right. Something was up.

He exchanged a knowing glance with Rosethorn, who nodded slightly. She sensed it too.

"Lead on," he said to Sandry, waving his hand.

When they entered the Duke's sleeping chamber Briar stopped short, mouth gaping at the sight that greeted him. He knew instantly what was troubling Sandry.

The room was teeming with remnants of his power. He didn't even need to think twice about it. Since the day he'd first successfully meditated, he'd known the signature of his magic better than anything else in his life.

Rosethorn knew it too. She pressed her lips into a tight line, and her brow wrinkled worriedly. He looked at her and made no effort to hide his bewilderment, although he did give her a small nod of confirmation to assure her that she was not imagining things.

"Well?"

Briar jumped a little. He hadn't realized one of the harriers had followed them into the room.

"Well, what?" snapped Rosethorn.

"Aren't you going to run a test? See whose magic this is?"

Briar opened his mouth to speak, and was stopped short by a small hand on his arm. He looked to see Sandry standing beside him, eyes imploring.

_Don't say it,_ she asked him silently, pleading. _Don't say it Briar, he might take you away_.

Briar bit his lip. It would be so easy. He was very good at lying. He'd done it all his life. Lies had been his stock in trade when he was Roach, and he hadn't entirely been able to let it go, even as Briar Moss.

_What am I supposed to say, Little Weaver?_ he replied. He glanced at Rosethorn, who nodded knowingly, and then back at Sandry. _There's no denying the facts. Rosethorn and I are not the only mages who will notice. They'll pinpoint me sooner or later. Better to be sooner. If I lie and run away…how will it look? _

Sandry's lip quivered, and her blue eyes clouded over. She closed them for a moment, gathering herself, and then nodded. She opened her eyes, gazing at him sadly and longingly.

_Why, why does she have to look at me like that?_ He felt as though someone was stabbing him repeatedly inside.

The harrier was still waiting expectantly. There was a moment's pause as the three mages hesitated one moment more. Who wanted to say the condemning words?

It was up to him, he knew.

Briar sighed audibly. "No need," he said. "We already know whose magic this is."

The harrier looked quite visibly relieved, and a light of retribution flamed behind his eyes. "Who?" he said slowly and carefully.

"It's mine," Briar said quietly. He waved his hands at the vicious ropes of thorns. "This is my magic."

"Guards!" called the harrier, without missing a beat. Briar cringed.

A contingent of Duke's Honor Guard filed promptly in, while Sandry and Rosethorn eased closer to Briar. He wondered if they were even aware of it. It made him feel good that they wanted to protect him.

"Arrest the boy," the harrier commanded, pointing an accusing finger at Briar. "He has been identified as the culprit."

Sandry gave a small outcry and her grip on Briar's arm tightened.

"Now just a minute!" said Rosethorn sternly, halting everyone in their tracks. Briar noted Captain Penmic easing his way through the line of his men to stand in the front.

Everyone's attention was still on Rosethorn. "A little civility, please," she said, with a disapproving look on the harrier in question, "You cannot just go shouting accusations at the drop of a hat. We have a system of law in Emelan, do we not?"

"What seems to be the trouble, Dedicate Rosethorn?" asked Penmic. Obviously, he hadn't been quick enough to know what was going on with Briar.

"A lack of due process," said Rosethorn imperiously, glaring at the harrier again. The man looked a little uncomfortable. "He was about to arrest Briar without the proper procedures."

Penmic frowned, and looked curiously at Briar. "And why would Harrier Berrinith wish to arrest Mage Briar?"

"Because Briar's magic was identified as part of this crime," Rosethorn said coolly. "Master…Berrinith here was treating it as a full-blown confession. Which of course, it's not."

Penmic looked at Sandry in amazement. "Is this true?" he asked her. Briar scowled. Wasn't Rosethorn's word good enough? Sandry nodded solemnly.

Penmic seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I'm sorry, Mistress Rosethorn, but it does mean I must take him into custody."

"I know that," said Rosethorn. "So does he. But until heads are a little cooler around here I won't have frenzied mobs at the Citadel's gate demanding his head before we get a proper trial."

Sandry had gone pale. Her hand, still on Briar's arm, finally relaxed and rested at her side. She was staring blankly ahead of her, seemingly not even listening to what else was going on.

Alarmed, Briar reached along their bond, and was met with a sea of panic and strife, roiling around inside of Sandry like a turbulent thunderstorm.

"I understand your concerns, Dedicate," said Penmic, still speaking to Rosethorn. "I assure you that Mage Briar will be treated as respectfully as possible until we get to the bottom of this." He nodded sagely at two of his guards, who moved to Briar's side and took either arm.

Briar scowled a little. "Lay off a little, okay? I'm coming willingly." He shrugged off their hands and put on a blank expression, immediately regretting the slight lapse in his conduct. He strengthened his resolve to keep his cool about this.

He tried to meet Sandry's eye as Berrinith began the statement of arrest, but she was still just staring, unmoving.

:-:-:

Sandry couldn't think. She couldn't move, she couldn't do anything. Vaguely, she remembered seeing people in this condition before...shock. That was it, she was in shock. She felt the panic swimming around inside of her mind, but it felt trapped. All of the resolve she had built up to be strong came crashing around like one of Tris's storms.

She couldn't move as she watched the harriers taking Briar away. How could this be happening? No! It couldn't! He had only said it was his magic that had killed her uncle-he had never said that he was the one who had done it.

_But what other possible explanation is there? _Sandry asked herself. _He was gone all night...this is his magic._ For one long moment, as she watched the harrier, Berrinith, still speaking, she wondered if Briar really was guilty.

_No! _she told herself fiercely. _Briar wouldn't do this...Briar couldn't do this. I know he couldn't. He's as much a part of me as I am. I would know if he had done this. _Still...it was Briar's magic...

It was only then that she was able to focus on what Berrinith was telling Briar. "...until you can have a proper trial. Do you understand what I have told you?"

"Yes," Briar said. Sandry could tell he was trying to stay calm.

"We're going to have to take you in now," Berrinith said.

"I understand," Briar replied impassively. His gaze fixed on Sandry, who looked back uncertainly.

_Could Briar have done this?_

_Sandry, listen to me. I didn't do this. You know I would never hurt you. I would never kill the Duke. You know that,_ Briar's thoughts were a little more desperate than his calm words to Berrinith.

Sandry studied him, looked into his deep green eyes, trying to see into his very soul. Berrinith and several other harriers were leading Briar out of the room now.

_Sandry! I didn't do this! _

Not knowing how to respond, Sandry sent him an impression of vague reassurance as she watched the guards take him away.

Now only Rosethorn, Penmic and herself remained in the room. Sandry swallowed hard and found her voice. She looked at Penmic. "No time is to be wasted getting to the bottom of this. I want the trial set for no later than tomorrow, do you understand? Who is the best truthsayer in Summersea?" She desperately wished that Niko were here. Niko was the best truthsayer she knew, but he and Tris were still somewhere off to the south.

"Haman of Lightsbridge lives in the city," said Penmic promptly. "He is highly respected and influential."

"Send for him immediately."

"Yes, milady."

After he had gone, Sandry sank to the floor. Hot tears welled up in her eyes.

_I can't do this. I can't. Not alone...I'm not ready to be the Duchess of Emelan. I'm not ready for Uncle Vedris to be dead...I need Briar, and Daja, and Tris. _

But Daja was still several days away, and Tris was who-knew-where.

And Briar…suddenly Briar seemed more removed than anyone.

:-:-:

When Evvy awoke that morning, she was surprised to find Discipline much less crowded than when she'd drifted off to sleep the previous night. Sandry was nowhere to be found in the bedroom. A quick survey of all the bedrooms revealed that the live-in students were not there either. Neither were Briar and Rosethorn. The resulting silence, therefore, made it very easy for her to detect a conversation taking place in the front garden.

Evvy eased up to the front window, and peeked up over the sill to see outside. There she saw Lark talking with a stout man wearing some sort of uniform. She quickly ducked back out of sight. If her aversion of nobility was significant, then her aversion of authorities was worse. But she still wanted to know what was going on.

Concentrating carefully, she reached out with her magic and smiled with satisfaction. The lower trim of Discipline was lined with fitted granite stones for decoration. Channeling her magic through the cool granite turned them into amplifiers for Evvy, and the outside conversation filtered through as though she were standing on the other side.

For half a moment, she paused, wondering if this was the type of thing Briar would ask her not to try. She knew it was rude of course, but laying that fact aside… was the skill involved beyond her control?

Evvy's curiousity helped her decide that she could handle this. She turned her attention wholly on what Lark and the stout man were saying.

"I would not expect Dedicate Rosethorn to return today," said the man. "She has expressed a wish to be present at the trial."

"When is the trial?" Lark asked. Her voice was very sober and very controlled.

"Tomorrow morning. The Duchess has requested the services of a truthsayer. He is probably preparing his investigation now."

_Duchess?_ Evvy thought, confused. _I thought Briar said the Duke wasn't married._

Maybe he'd married since Briar had been here, although surely Pahan Sandry would have written about something so important. Probably she'd just heard wrong.

She was disappointed to note that Lark's conversation with the official was drawing to a close. She fidgeted with frustration. What she really needed was to hear the beginning of the conversation.

Evvy remembered Rosethorn once telling her about how ambient mages could use their magic to help them see into the past. Could she try that? Well, she didn't really need to see the past per se, only to hear it… Knowing perfectly well that this was definitely not something she should be trying, Evvy opened her magic further, imagining herself as the granite itself.

She found it surprisingly difficult to convince the stones to show her the past. These pieces of granite had existed for millennia, and did not think of time in the same way Evvy did. When she requested they show her the recent past, she got impressions of younger landscapes from a time long forgotten. She tried to clarify, but the granite did not seem to understand. It got frustrated, its desire to please Evvy struggling against its inability to do so.

The result was that a moment later a very dazed Evvy found herself sprawled on the floor with a pounding headache. She had been pushed away from the wall by a rouge surge of her own power. With a groan, she managed to hoist herself to her feet and stumble outside.

She was not surprised to see Lark on her way up the garden path, a look of alarm on her face. Upon seeing Evvy standing unharmed in the doorway, Lark breathed a sigh of relief and swiftly switched to scolding mode.

"What were you up to?" she chided disapprovingly. She asked the question very calmly, but somehow it was worse than Rosethorn's sharp tongue. It made Evvy feel more ashamed.

"Um…" she began, but quickly stopped. It only took her a moment to decide that the whole truth would probably be the most appropriate course of action right now. She told Lark about the granite stones.

A quick survey of the right-side front wall of Discipline revealed the stones to be full of deep, splitting cracks.

"Well, you didn't try to hold back the tide," Lark commented blithely, surveying the damage, "but I imagine the lesson is about the same."

"Sorry?" Evvy asked, confused.

Lark exhaled with a chuckle. "Briar and Sandry's friend Tris. A weather mage. She once tried to control the tide. The attempt nearly killed her."

Evvy's eyes were wide. "How…" she began, a little frightened, "How does that the same as this?" She waved her hand toward the granite slabs, which were really granite fragments now.

"Magic will follow the patterns of nature," said Lark. "I don't know much about your kind of magic, but I imagine granite is not the type of stone that is at all applicable to anything short-term. But maybe someday you will find a stone that works better with that spell."

Evvy's mind raced over her lessons of the past year. "Obsidian," she suggested eagerly. "It was once lava, which is very…um…" She paused, not sure what word to use to describe what she was thinking of. "Lava moves fast and changes a lot," she said instead, taking a different approach. And obsidian is very young, as far as stones go.

Lark was smiling approvingly. "Perhaps you're right," she said.

"Um, Pahan Lark?" Evvy spoke up hesitantly, as the twosome headed back into Discipline.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Can you tell me what you were talking about with that man? Who was he?"

Lark walked to the dining table, which Evvy noticed for the first time was laid with simple breakfast fare. She began filling a plate for Evvy with bread and fruit. "He was a member of the Duke's personal courier service. He was delivering a message to me from Sandry and Rosethorn."

"What kind of message?" Evvy asked again, taking her place at the table.

"Go wash your hands Evvy." Evvy scowled a little, but got up again. Lark continued. "I'm afraid Briar's usual penchant for trouble did not wait long to find him. Unfortunately this time, it's of a very serious and alarming nature."

In the middle of scrubbing soap onto her hands, Evvy turned with concern. "What's wrong with him? Where is he?"

"At the Duke's Citadel."

"Why is he there? What's happened?"

Lark sighed. She looked very sad. "Duke Vedris has been murdered," she finally said. "And Briar's magic has been identified as part of the murder. Briar is now under arrest and being held for trial."

Evvy forgot about hand-washing. "What!" she exclaimed. "That's ridiculous! How did this happen? When did it happen? Everything was fine when I went to sleep!"

Lark carefully explained the events that had transpired over the course of the very long night and morning. When she was finished, Evvy became a maelstrom of impatient energy.

"We have to go there," she declared. "We have to go help him. He needs us there."

Lark put a restraining hand on Evvy's shoulder. "No, child. Briar is perfectly taken care of right now. He has both Rosethorn and Sandry to look after him. I know you might not believe this, but both of them know Briar even better than you do. The time may come when we will go, yes. But right now our best choice is to wait here and see what comes of his trial."

"Tomorrow morning," Evvy pronounced, remembering what she'd overheard outside. "And the Duchess…" Evvy paused, now understanding what that statement had meant, "Sandry has requested a truthsayer."

"I'm sure everything will be fine. Briar's magic on the scene is nothing conclusive, and none of his acquaintances believe him capable. I'm sure he'll be back home within the week. Don't forget, Sandry is the Duchess now. She can affect much that happens to him."

That thought was very comforting to Evvy. "Okay," she said. "I'll stay…for now." She made sure she put the appropriate warning note in her tone, which made Lark smile.

"So," Evvy spoke up confidently, trying to make herself more cheerful than she felt. "What are we going to do today? Where are your other students?"

"Ivren is off with his teacher, and Comas left to go visit his home for a few weeks." Then Lark smiled again and raised her eyebrows. " As for the two of us, I don't know what we will be doing, but I know what you'll be doing. You need to go find me some more granite for my cottage wall."

Evvy groaned. She should have seen that one coming.


	5. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

by Qwi-Xux

Briar stared out at the crowd of people gathered to see his trial. He knew there were curious spectators outside of the court building, waiting to hear the verdict. They weren't allowed in the building, as this was a very serious court matter. The news about Briar Moss, famous plant-mage, being accused of murdering Duke Vedris, had spread through Summersea like a heat wave.

An official announcement of the Duke's death, and of Sandry's ascension to Duchess, had gone out the night before. The traditional protocols about becoming Duchess had gone out the window, everything had been rushed, and within in afternoon, everything had been made official. Sandry was the Duchess of Emelan, and no one could reprove that.

The thing that made people even more curious about it was that Briar had killed the great-uncle of one of the three other mages he was supposed to be closest to. Sandry, Briar, Tris, and Daja were hardly mentioned without being known as one of the quartet of mages. They were well-known even outside of Emelan.

Briar was trying to stay calm, and hoped he was doing a decent job of it. He didn't know what to think. He had spent the entire night in a small cell, that was specially designed so he couldn't use his magic. He couldn't contact Sandry, he didn't know anything that was going on outside. He wondered, over and over, how Vedris had been killed with his magic. He knew perfectly well where he had been all night, and it wasn't anywhere near the Citadel. And no, he had not used his magic from a long distance away. His magic had been inside of him all night--right where it was supposed to be.

Briar now glanced down at his vined hands, which were hiding the two X's in between his thumb and finger. The marks of a thief. He had been through this before. He had been arrested, but at least he had been guilty of the crime. He knew he wasn't guilty of this one.

He found some relief that there was a truthsayer. A truthsayer would be able to tell that he was innocent. Then he wouldn't have to worry being thought guilty, and Sandry wouldn't have to deal with the stress of wondering. Briar believed, in his heart, that she would stand by him, just as he knew Rosethorn and Lark would. He would still feel better if they all knew he hadn't done this.

_Well, you just chose the perfect time to go traipsing around Winding Circle in the middle of the night, didn't you?_ he asked himself sardonically. _Where's the irony in that?_

Being free of prison would also give him one more advantage: he could help hunting down the real murderer. Not only had this kaq used his magic to kill Sandry's uncle, but he or she had hurt Sandry more than Briar could begin to fathom. Sandry had been through so much in her life--her parents' death, facing more deaths in earthquakes, diseases...she didn't need to deal with this on top of it.

Briar desperately wished he were on the other side of this court, sitting with Sandry and Rosethorn without being accused. He wished Lark were here, too, and Daja and Tris, but he knew that Lark would be watching Evvy, which he appreciated. That girl could be a handful, and Lark would be able to keep her in line. He wondered where Daja and Tris were now. Was Daja almost home? What would she be coming back to?

The audience consisted of several mages. Besides Rosethorn and Sandry, Briar caught sight of Dedicate Crane, another plant-mage, and Honored Moonstream herself, the head of Winding Circle. There were several others he did not know, and several harriers and people from the Duke's Citadel.

The spokesman in front stood up to read the charges. "We are gathered here to determine the innocence of the accused, Mage Briar Moss, in regards to the murder of his Excellency, Duke Vedris of Emelan."

Briar looked across the crowds at Sandry, and their eyes locked. Her eyes were red, and her face was pale, as if she had been crying. She was wearing a thin black veil, but he could clearly see her face through it. She was dressed in a long black gown. He would have contacted her, but the harrier-mages had donned him with cuffs that dampened his magic, much like the cell he had been kept in, and he had very little access to it. If he had tried anything, even contacting Sandry, they would have been on him before he could say 'tomato.' The lack of his magic made him feel like there was a giant hole in him, but he could deal with it for just a little longer.

"Presenting the honorable Truthsayer Haman," the spokesman said. Everyone, including Briar, turned their attention to the side door where Haman was entering. He was tall and stately, and Briar had an immediate impression that he was a noble of some sort. He had thinning gray hair and piercing gray eyes. His thin nose and cheekbones reminded Briar vaguely of a bird.

Briar narrowed his eyes at the truthsayer. He couldn't say why, but Haman gave him a bad feeling. There was something out-of-place with him. It wasn't something anyone would notice, but Briar, having lived for so long on the streets as a child, could recognize things about people without needing his magic for it.

Haman elegantly swept into the seat facing Briar's. Both of them were sideways to the audience. He and Briar stared at each other for a moment, and then Haman spoke in a calm voice. "Let the truthsaying begin."

The entire court was silent.

"Briar Moss, where were you on the night of Duke Vedris's death?" Haman began.

Briar answered just as calmly. "In the Earth Temple's grain fields outside of Winding Circle."

"What were you doing there?" Haman asked.

Briar had already thought up his answers. "I was out there thinking." It sounded stupid, but he had to tell the exact truth, or Haman would know he was lying.

"Thinking? How curious. About what?"

"I hadn't been to Winding Circle in a year and a half. I felt enclosed, and I needed to get out and clear my mind. As I am a plant mage, the grain fields were a good place to go," Briar replied easily. It was true that he had felt enclosed--he had felt stifled by the things he was feeling for Sandry, and had been trying to clear his mind.

"Did you go into Summersea at all that night? More specifically, did you enter the Duke's Citadel?"

"No," Briar stated firmly.

"Did you use your magic to kill Duke Vedris of Emelan?"

Briar caught sight of Sandry in his peripheral vision, clutching tightly at a handkerchief. "No, I did not."

"Then how do you explain your magic being at the scene of the crime?"

"I can't explain it, but I know that I didn't do it."

"You yourself identified it as your magic, did you not?" Haman wondered.

"I did."

Haman tilted his head slightly and kept staring at Briar. It was now that Briar realized what kind of bird Haman reminded him of--a vulture, or some other bird of prey. He was eyeing Briar as though he were the prey.

Another chill washed down Briar's back. _He'll tell them I'm innocent_, he maintained.

After several long moments, Haman spoke. "Mage Briar Moss of Emelan and Winding Circle is lying. He is guilty of the murder of Duke Vedris of Emelan."

Briar blinked at the man. Those were the last words he had expected to hear. For a long minute, he wondered if he had heard wrong. He was stunned. How could the truthsayer say he was guilty? It wasn't true! Unable to hold himself back, Briar jumped to his feet. "That's not true! I'm not guilty!"

Three harrier-mages moved as if to step forward, but Briar made sure to keep himself from jumping at the truthsayer. He turned to face the crowd, his eyes looking frantically at Rosethorn and Sandry. "I did not murder him!"

The harrier-mages were grabbing his arms now, trying to pull him out of the room. Frantic, Briar tried to shake them off, but they were wrapping their magic around him, tightening him with invisible bonds. "I didn't do it!" Briar yelled. He addressed himself to Sandry. "Sandry! I did not murder him!"

Someone in the audience--probably from the Duke's Citadel--stood up. "How dare you talk to her Eminence? How dare you!"

Sandry was stood, frozen, clutching Rosethorn's arm.

"SANDRILENE!" Briar yelled, using her full name. He had only ever used it when he was teasing her. "I did not murder your uncle!"

The harrier-mages finally forced Briar out of the room, and took him back to his cell.

:--:--:

Guilty. Briar was guilty. How could he be guilty? It didn't make sense. Yet...the truthsayer, Haman, had said he was. Sandry didn't remember a truthsayer ever being wrong, and never one as experienced and renowned as Haman.

And yet, there was a little voice screaming inside of Sandry. _No! He's not guilty! I know he's not!_ She recalled Briar's shocked face as Haman announced he was guilty. Sandry knew him just as well as she knew herself...or she thought she did. She knew when he was acting and when he wasn't--and the look on his face said that the last thing he had been expecting was the verdict he got.

"Rosethorn," Sandry finally found her voice. She clutched Rosethorn's arm more tightly. "Is he--?"

Rosethorn's brown eyes met Sandry's levelly. "I highly doubt that Briar was plotting the murder of your uncle on the way back to Winding Circle," she said wryly. Her lips tightened, and she watched Haman leave the room. "Something is going on here, and we're going to find out what it is." Her voice softened as she looked at Sandry. "We'll work it out. Right now, you have other things to worry about, too."

Her responsibility as Duchess. Something that Sandry did not want to deal with at the moment. She sighed heavily. She was so empty inside. She didn't think she had any more tears to cry, even if she hadn't felt so hollow. "I know, Rosethorn." She carefully released Rosethorn's arm. "I need to go back to the Citadel, but I can't...I can't..." Her voice cracked. "I can't believe that Briar is guilty. I just...need to think about it. Will you go tell Lark what happened? I'll need to check on Pasco, too..." There were so many things to think about. It was as if her mind had suddenly been thrown down a hundred paths.

Rosethorn laid a calming hand on Sandry's shoulder. "I'll go speak with Lark. We'll get to the bottom of this, Sandry."

:--:--:

"Well, this puts the bread in the bag," Lark sighed.

Evvy stood frozen in shock. She had just heard the whole thing--Rosethorn had talked about how Briar had been named guilty this morning at the trial. Not only was this the last thing Evvy had expected to hear, but she didn't believe one word of it. There was no way Briar would kill the Duke. Briar was honorable, and kind, and...and he just wouldn't do it! He had taken Evvy in...he had always known what Evvy was feeling, because he had lived the same life on the streets that Evvy had. He had understood her nightmares about not getting enough to eat. He had protected her, and rescued her when power-hungry nobles were after her.

And she knew that he would not have killed Sandry's uncle. Briar liked Sandry. Evvy had seen that right away, and thought it very amusing.

"I know. I don't know what we're going to do about it. I spoke with Moonstream after the trial, and while I believe she thinks something strange is going on, I don't think she believes Briar did this anymore than I do," Rosethorn said stoutly. "Anyone who knows Briar would know that he would never do this. If he did do it, I'm convinced it was not of his own free will."

"You think he was coerced?" Lark wondered.

"I don't know, but I don't think for an instant that Briar did this willingly, if he did it at all."

Lark sighed. "I agree. Briar may have caused a lot of mischief during his time here, but he would never stoop to this."

Evvy let out a quiet breath of relief. At least Rosethorn and Lark knew it was a load of trash. She waited to hear what they were going to do about it, but before they said anything, there was a loud meow right by her feet. Evvy glanced down and saw Amethyst. She frantically waved the cat away, but Amethyst meowed louder and rubbed against Evvy's legs.

"Evumeimei, come out here right now," Rosethorn's sharp voice snapped.

Evvy sighed and pursed her lips at her cat, but the cat was happily purring. Climbing carefully over Amethyst, Evvy walked around the corner and into the kitchen.

Rosethorn stared piercingly at Evvy. "I don't need to ask how long you've been eavesdropping, do I?" Her tone was half-weary, half-wry.

Evvy scuffed her foot and stared at the floor.

"Evvy, I need to go into Summersea with Rosethorn to speak with Sandry," Lark said quietly. "You need to stay here. I'm going to speak with Ivren's teacher, Dedicate Spring, to see if she will keep an eye on him, and I will also find someone to keep an eye on you."

"But I want to go! I want to help Briar!" Evvy protested.

"I'll be back tonight, Evvy. You need to stay here," Lark said firmly.

"But--" Evvy stopped abruptly at the look Rosethorn was giving her. "Fine," she pouted.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Rosie," Lark told Rosethorn. "I'm going to find someone that will stay with Evvy until I get back."

:--:--:

"What? How?" Sandry faced several of the harriers, disbelieving. "Explain!"

"Your Eminence, we're doing our best to control it, but the merchants don't want to listen to reason," one of the harriers told her.

Sandry resisted the urge to bang her head on something hard. "They've gone on strike? Against Emelan? Why?"

"They're saying they want more rights, and they want to talk to you personally."

"All of them are on strike?" Sandry asked.

"Yes. It had to have been planned, milady. It's an uproar. They're refusing to deliver the supplies that were due to come in today, so many of the markets are in upheaval, because they're not getting the food and supplies they needed to sell," another harrier explained.

Great. Just great. This was just what Sandry needed to deal with at this moment. She had been on the throne for a day, and already she was facing her best friend being thrown in jail because he supposedly killed her uncle, and now there were merchants on strike! She struggled to hold back the tears that wanted to spring into her eyes.

"Milady," a messenger boy had just run into the room.

Biting her cheek so she didn't snap at the boy, Sandry said, in her calmest voice, "What?"

"Dedicate Lark and Dedicate Rosethorn of Winding Temple are here to see you," the boy said.

Sandry could have burst into tears right then. Now this was something that she did need. To the harriers, she said, "Excuse me, but we can finish this later. I must speak with the Dedicates." She slid from her seat without waiting for a response, and followed the boy to a sitting room.

Lark was seated on a couch, while Rosethorn was standing, her arms folded across her chest, a cross look on her face. As soon as the boy was gone and the door was tightly shut, Sandry said, "I'm so glad you came."

"We--"

There was suddenly a knock on the door, and Sandry, irritated, went to answer it. "Yes?" she said to the same boy who had just left. "Forgive the interruption, milady, but your student is here to see you."

Pasco. Sandry sighed. Well, she needed to speak with him, too. He would already know what was going on, as his uncle had been at the murder investigation, and the rest of his family were harriers. "Send him in," she ordered.

"Yes, milady." The boy disappeared, and reappeared several moments later with Pasco in tow.

"Come in, Pasco." Sandry ushered him inside, then closed to door once more.

"Can you believe this?" Pasco burst out, barely waiting for the door to close before he was speaking. "That Briar Moss killed the Duke! I thought he was your friend, Sandry."

Three sharp faced turned his way. "Briar did not kill the Duke, boy," Rosethorn said coldly, her brown eyes fixed on Pasco's face. "If he did, I seriously doubt it was of his own free will."

Sandry took heart in that. Rosethorn would know, wouldn't she? She would know if Briar had done it. The more Sandry had thought about it, the more she was sure Briar couldn't have been lying. She would have known. She would have known, the night the Duke was killed, if Briar was guilty. His mind was part of hers. She would have known. Wouldn't she?

Pasco was so incensed, he seemed oblivious to Rosethorn's glare. Sandry had to remind herself that Pasco had never met the sharp-tongued woman before. He had no idea what forces he was messing with. "How can you say that? The truthsayer knew he was lying! Do you know when a truthsayer has ever been wrong? Especially one as well-versed and respected as Haman?"

Sandry cringed. "Pasco, sit down," she said tartly.

Pasco opened his mouth to speak again, but Sandry gave him her best glare and pointed at the couch. Pasco stormily plopped down beside Lark.

"This," Sandry said pointedly, as if Pasco should know who he was facing, "is Dedicate Rosethorn, plant-mage. Rosethorn, this is my student, Pasco Acalon."

"Briar would never have killed the Duke on his own. If he was coerced into doing it, we need to find out how," Rosethorn said icily, with another glare toward Pasco.

"I still think--" Pasco began, but was finally silenced by Rosethorn's look.

In the end, not much came of the discussion. No one could figure out how Briar would have been manipulated, or hypnotized, or whatever, into killing the Duke. "I think," Rosethorn finally said, "that I'm going to make a trip out to the Earth Temple grain fields. The plants will know if Briar was there, though I may not be able to get a time frame, it might help if we can retrace his steps on the night he went out."

"Oh, I wish Niko and Tris were here," Sandry said, an almost painful look on her face. "Niko could help sort it out. They could even do a past-seeing, and find out what happened." Sandry didn't know anyone else who was powerful enough to do a past-seeing. Niko's magic was to see things that were hidden, and it was hard enough for him to do it. "Meanwhile, I'm going to speak with Briar. I haven't had time to do it all morning, but I simply can't put it off. Pasco," she turned her attention to her student, "I want you to go and stay at the Dance Academy until this is over with. I'll send a message ahead to Yazmin."

Pasco gaped at her. "What? Why? I can help with this!"

Sandry remembered very clearly Pasco's episode with the murderers in Emelan a year ago. He had been scarred very badly by it, and it had taken a while to recover. The rest of his family might be harriers, but he just wasn't a harrier. She didn't want him in the middle of this again, especially since she was as close to it as she could possibly get. She didn't want Pasco in danger--and for some reason, he was entirely too forceful on believing that Briar had done this. The only reason she could think of for this was his dance teacher, Yazmin. Sandry knew that Yazmin and her Uncle Vedris had gotten very close over the last year, and perhaps Pasco was thinking about how much this would affect Yazmin. Whatever the reason, it was best that he wasn't around the situation right now.

"I'm sorry, Pasco, but as your teacher, I think this is best for you. I will have two of my guards escort you to Yazmin's this afternoon, is that understood? I will send a message to your parents as well, explaining the circumstances."

Pasco pursed his lips. "I don't want to go."

_Must he always be so stubborn?_ "I don't care. You're going," Sandry said, steel in her voice.

"Fine," Pasco said, in a less-than-happy voice.

:--:--:

Briar sat in his cell, leaning against the wall. He still couldn't believe what had happened. He couldn't believe Haman had pronounced him guilty. He kept running the trial over and over in his mind. He still hadn't gotten to talk to Sandry or Rosethorn. What did they think? Did they believe he had killed Vedris? What did Sandry think?

On cue, he heard a voice outside of his cell. "I want admittance, now."

_Sandry. _

"Milady, it is not--"

"Now."

"Yes, milady. But be careful, you never know--"

"I'll be perfectly fine, thank you," Sandry's curt voice replied.

A moment later, the heavy door to his cell slid open, and Sandry slipped inside. She closed the door, not listening to the guard's protests as it sealed shut. She was still dressed in her black dress and veil, but she shoved the veil back from her face to stare at Briar. Her face was so pale, too pale. Her entire body was taut and tense. His heart broke at the expression on his face, and he thought fiercely for a moment about what he wanted to do to the real murderer.

"Briar," Sandry began tentatively. She sighed, and sank down on the stone bench across from his. She hesitated, then said, "I've been speaking with Lark and Rosethorn. They--we--don't believe you killed my uncle."

Briar stared into her eyes for a long moment. Did she really believe that? Or was she just saying it? He wished he had access to his magic, so he could tell for sure. "Do you really believe that, Sandry? Really?"

Sandry's forehead wrinkled, but she continued to stare into Briar's eyes. "I...I..." she broke off, then started again. "I think I would know if you had done it. I think I know you better than that. Rosethorn--she thinks someone might have used you to do it, and you might not remember."

Briar laughed dryly. "Tell her to think again. I know where I was all night. No one messed with my mind, or made me do anything."

"But...you might not be sure, if they were really good at--"

"Sandry, there has to be another explanation. Tell Rosethorn that. And someone might want to check up on that Haman guy."

"Haman?" Sandry asked. "But--why? He's a respected truthsayer; he's dealt with hundreds of cases--"

"And something was strange about him. I don't need magic to see when something's wrong, Sandry."

"Do you think...are you suggesting that he lied? That someone...paid him off or something?"

"I don't know," Briar said, suddenly more tired than he had thought possible. "I don't know, but something's not right, Sandry. And my sentencing is going to be tomorrow afternoon." He didn't want to admit that he was scared. He had thought that he was safe from being arrested for things like this. When Niko rescued him from a short future working on the docks, he had thought this sort of thing wouldn't happen. He had thought he had become 'respectable.' He was a mage, and he had come so far, only to be faced with this.

Sandry cringed. "Oh, Briar...they could...they could..." she broke off, unable to finish.

"Order me killed? Yes. And a lot of other things, too...none of them very promising," Briar said grimly. "And I'm stuck in here and can't do a thing about it."

Sandry's chin stiffened. "Something will happen, Briar. I'll do everything I can to help you."

:--:--:

Lark had gotten Dedicate Crane to keep an eye on Evvy, and Evvy wondered if she had upset Lark so much that the Dedicate felt she had to torture Evvy like this. Crane wasn't at all thrilled about having to watch a 'raucous, child of a girl, who was surely more trouble than she was worth.' Evvy tried to stay as far away from him as possible--she had learned that he was a noble, and his attitude didn't make her like him at all.

Evvy got more restless as the day went on, and kept wondering when Lark would get back. She was even more worried about Briar, and kept wishing that Rosethorn had taken her. She needed to visit him, at least see that he was unharmed.

_Unharmed? You know what it's like to be stuck somewhere!_ Evvy reprimanded herself. She thought back to the time when she had been a prisoner in a noblewoman's house, held because the Lady wanted to use her magic. Briar hadn't sat back and waited. Briar had come for her, torn down the house to get to her. He didn't wait for permission.

_Yeah, but Briar's a mage! He didn't have to get permission. Not that it matters! He's still in trouble, and I should be there for him, just like he always is for me! _Evvy thought stoutly.

That settled a decision in Evvy's mind. She wasn't going to wait around here. She was going to go get Briar out of prison! Nevermind that she didn't know how to get to Summersea, or the Duke's Citadel. She'd catch a ride with somebody or something.

She hesitated for a moment--what about her cats? Well, Lark was supposed to be back soon, she would watch them. Only... Evvy searched quickly and found Moss, curled up on Sandry's bed. He was Sandry's cat, and Sandry was in Summersea. She probably needed a friend more than ever. Besides, Moss reminded Evvy of Briar--it was kind of comforting.

Checking to make sure Crane wasn't around, Evvy slipped out of the cottage, Moss tucked into the large pocket on her tunic, next to the pouch that Lark had made her--the one designed to keep her magic enclosed. She ran down the road that led out of Winding Circle.


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

by Saché8

Haman pressed his fingertips together as he regarded his accomplice levelly. "I don't see what you're so upset about," he said.

The merchant stood up from his seat and began pacing the room furiously. "The plan is already failing!" he said with anger. "Both the duke and his great-niece were supposed to die. It does us no good to have her in his place. She's just as stubborn and just as strong. She practically ran the country when the Duke was indisposed after the heart attack."

Haman concentrated to keep his exasperation out of his tone. "Yes, it's very true. However, if you seriously agreed to this plan without foreseeing the need for flexibility at some point, then I suggest you learn from this example."

The merchant sat down again with a defeated sigh. "So, what do we do now?"

"I would still like to be rid of Lady Sandrilene," Haman said, rising from his seat and studying the map of Emelan on his wall. "Eventually. It is true that circumstances are more difficult now, but that is not to say they are unmanageable."

He lifted a well-manicured hand and began browsing the spines of the volumes in his bookcase. "Right now," he continued, "the Duchess does not find herself in the most desirable of circumstances. Within three days she's lost her uncle, and had the burden of responsibility suddenly thrust upon her. Then one of her closest friends is accused of the murder, and to top it all off, she has a major economic crisis on her hands."

"Obviously," said the merchant with disdain, "but remember that we are the source of the economic conflict. It's all very well for you, Haman. You have no reason to merit her attention. The merchants, on the other hand, will be constantly in her thoughts, and she's just as hard-nosed and foolhardy as her uncle." His ruddy face was flushed with unease as he spoke.

"Did you know…" commented Haman, overlooking this remark and finally pulling the book he'd been looking for off the shelf, "that if a ruler of Emelan is found guilty of any sort of crime, that he or she may be immediately stripped of title? The power then immediately passes to the successor."

The merchant's eyes darted and he sat up a little straighter. "Sandrilene has no successor."

"Indeed," agreed Haman. "As we have already determined. Which means that our plan would proceed along similar lines. The regency would fall to Count Farinte, who is well under my influence. And soon Emelan would be, for all intents and purposes, under our direct control."

The merchant was sitting up very straight now. "And just what is this crime we're to accuse her of?"

Haman smirked. "Why, conspiracy to kill the Duke of Emelan of course. Why else do you think her good friend Briar Moss would have been convinced to do it?"

:-:-:

Paloma's first impressions of Mistress Yazmin's Dance Academy were turning out to be very odd.

It was the afternoon following the murder trial. She stood at the bottom of the staircase in the hallway, feeling a little lost and wondering if she should venture in search of someone. Her bag, packed with her few and precious belongings, rested at her feet.

The silence in the air was thick and heavy. There didn't seem to be anyone about, which was strange, because surely a dancing studio would have classes going on. She knew that Yazmin's students were famous for their skill, but they couldn't dance that quietly.

With a sigh, Paloma walked over to the stairs and sat on the bottom few, taking her bag with her. She settled in to wait, entertaining herself for a little while by fiddling with the ties on the bag, bored out of her mind.

Hadn't they remembered she was coming? She didn't like to be arrogant in her own regard, but her referral had been by Master Haman. He was not a man to be ignored in any situation.

After about fifteen minutes that felt like two hours, Paloma sighed again and got to her feet, determined to seek someone out and figure out where she was supposed to be.

She was heading for the nearest doorway when, at long last, someone else finally showed up. He did not come in from another part of the building however. He came in the way Paloma had. Through the front door. And very noisily too.

He was about her own age, she guessed. Twelve or thirteen. He was neither too tall nor too short, with a wiry build and dark brown hair. The door latch clattered loudly as he came in, and he slammed the door shut behind him with a thud.

He seemed lost in thought when he first came in, but stopped short when he saw Paloma standing uncertainly by the stairs.

"Who are you?" he queried quite confidently.

She raised her chin proudly. "Paloma Nahar," she replied. "I've come to study here, as a boarding student. Who are you?"

"Um…," said the boy. His eyes were darting around the hallway as if he were looking for someone. His eyes flashed briefly back to Paloma. "Pasco Acalon," he said quickly, then resumed his sweeping search of the room.

Paloma's heart leapt with triumphant excitement. What a lucky break! How lucky that Pasco should be the very first person she encountered here!

Pasco, however, did not seem in a very sociable mood. Apparently satisfied that whatever he was seeking was not to be found in the hallway, he began bounding past her up the stairs. "Nice to meet you," he said civilly as he swept by.

"Wait!" she cried, picking up her bag to follow him. "Can you please help me? I've been waiting half an hour, and no one seems to have been expecting me."

Pasco stopped and turned around to study her more closely. "Then why didn't you just go find someone?" he asked, slightly mystified.

She blanched a little. "Well…" she began, "that would have been rude. I am a stranger here, after all."

Pasco seemed to consider this statement for a moment. "Hmmn," he said thoughtfully. "It really wouldn't have made a difference; no one cares about that sort of thing here. Then again," he added with a roll of his eyes, "my mother would probably agree with you."

Paloma managed a weak smile, although she was a little too put off by his rudeness to be truly amused.

Pasco sighed, came back down the stairs, and took her bag from her hand. "Come on," he said, with a jerk of his head. "We'll go find someone to get you straightened out."

She nodded her thanks and said nothing.

"You know, it's just your bad luck that today was your first day," he said. "Normally this place is full of people, but for the last couple days it's been pretty quiet, what with the murder and all."

Paloma made absolutely certain her voice would not betray her before she spoke. "The Duke's murder?" she prompted.

Pasco's face darkened slightly. "Yeah," he growled. "Yazmin was very close to the Duke. They kind of…" he threw her sidelong glance and put on a meaningful expression, "well…you know." He nodded emphatically.

Paloma raised her eyebrows slightly. She also could not prevent the corners of her mouth from twitching a little in amusement. "Ah," she replied knowingly. "I see."

Pasco seemed relieved that he did not have to go into further detail on such an embarrassing subject.

"She canceled all classes this week," Pasco continued. "She's very upset." His face grew dark and his free hand clenched involuntarily. "I swear," he growled, "I could just…"

"Just?" Paloma repeated innocently.

He shook his head. "Nevermind. But the sentencing of the murderer is this afternoon. It's probably going on right now, actually."

Paloma knew that Mage Briar's sentencing would be as quick and rushed as his trial had been. Her master would make sure of that.

They'd reached the first landing. Pasco walked into the first and nearest doorway, on the right side of the long hallway.

The room was obviously an office of some sort. There was a reception area, very nicely designed and comfortable looking. A door to another room was at the far end, and slightly ajar.

"Mrs. Risset!" Pasco called towards the door. He set Paloma's bag on a nearby end table.

They waited a moment, and then Pasco glanced at Paloma, rolling his eyes. "She can't hear very well," he said. "Probably why she didn't hear the door when you came."

"MRS. RISSET!" he shouted, much louder. He headed for the doorway.

When he was halfway there, an incredibly skinny old lady came out of the other room. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Pasco. "Master Acalon!" she said. "What a pleasant surprise! I wasn't expecting you today."

"Sandry told me to come here," he said. "Don't ask me why. She knows I have a home." He laughed. "I guess she is rather distracted. Still, can't disobey executive orders, can you?" He winked kindly at Mrs. Risset.

"Well, my dear, I must say I'm glad you came. It's been mighty lonesome around here these past few days."

"You'll be glad then," said Pasco, "to hear that I've found you even more company." He turned and gestured to Paloma, standing behind him. "This is…" he trailed off, obviously trying to remember her name.

"Paloma," she supplied for him.

"Right. Paloma," he repeated. "She said she was expected. Gonna be a new boarder."

"Oh my good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Risset, putting her hands on either side of her shocked face. "I forgot all about that! I read Master Haman's letter and it got lost in the shuffle. You poor child!"

"Well!" said Pasco satisfactorily, "Mrs. Risset can take it from here, Paloma. I'm going to go see Yazmin. Tell her what's going on at the palace. I'd wager Sandry might think to come visit her if she stops worrying about that friend of hers." He spat out the word 'friend' like it had a foul taste.

And then he was gone, leaving a kind but very flighty Mrs. Risset to oversee a very bewildered Paloma.

:-:-:

Evvy managed to get outside Winding Circle easily enough. True, there were sentinels at the gates, but they were more concerned with who was trying to get in than with who was leaving.

It was when she got to the road outside that she faced a dilemma. Which way to wherever Briar was? She supposed she should ask someone, but she wanted to be farther away from the temple before she did so. So she headed down the main road in the opposite direction from the one they had arrived in two days ago. The traffic seemed to favor this direction anyway.

After a little while, the kitten in her pocket began to get restless, so she pulled him out and let him walk alongside her on the road. She entertained herself by watching him play, even though it slowed her progress. It took her mind off of the growing pang of hunger in her stomach, because she foolishly realized too late that she had forgotten to bring along provision for this little foray.

The lack of food wasn't her only concern. The farther she walked, the longer the evening shadows grew. What would she do if she couldn't find the city by nightfall?

Eventually she decided she'd better go ahead and ask someone if she was going the right way. If she wasn't… well, she'd decide how to cross that bridge when she came to it.

At that moment she realized she'd lost sight of Moss. With a sigh, she stepped off the road into the underbrush, calling his name and berating herself for losing him. He was too much like his namesake to be neglected for long.

Eventually she identified the sounds of mewling kitten distress and followed them to find Moss stuck between two branches of a small tree, and unable to wriggle free. Sighing, she reached up and plucked him from his prison.

"You silly boy," she said, scolding. "Don't you know that trees are for birds?"

All the play seemed gone from Moss now. He was purring furiously, and was starting to show signs of sleepiness again. She put pocketed him and headed back for the road.

When she reached it, she noted two figures on horseback approaching in the same direction she had been headed before her slight detour. One was a tall, strong, dark-skinned man with a bald head and a full beard. The other was a stocky dark-skinned girl wearing leather breeches and a cotton tunic. Her hair was separated into many small black braids.

Still half-hidden in the shadows of the road, Evvy picked up pieces of their conversation.

"…absolutely incredible," the tall man was saying. "Not to mention ludicrous."

"I know," said the girl. "Briar would never do such a thing. I have to wonder what's going on."

Evvy jerked at the sound of Briar's name and regarded the couple more carefully. She narrowed her eyes, and strained to catch every word.

The tall man let out a sigh of frustration. "Of course, this would happen as soon as we get home," he grumbled. "Can't have a peaceful, relaxing recuperation period, oh no."

The girl let out a sympathetic laugh, but it was half-hearted at best. She was clearly preoccupied. The pair fell into an uneasy silence. Just after they passed her by, Evvy remembered her resolve to figure out where she was going.

Evvy took a deep breath, then stepped fully into view. "Excuse me!" she called out.

The horses came to an easy stop, and the riders turned around to find her.

"Hello," said the tall man kindly. He smiled, revealing a row of large, sparkling white teeth.

This made Evvy feel a little easier. "I'm trying to get to the Duke's Citadel," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "Is this the right road?"

"Not only is it the right road, but it is also the right direction," he replied with a wink. "But what I should like to know is why a little waif like you is looking to go to the Duke's Citadel in the first place."

Evvy got angry. "That's not your business," she said indignantly. She crossed her arms.

He laughed. "Very well then. But you'd better have a good reason, otherwise the Duke's guard won't let you in."

Evvy pursed her lips and glared. "That just shows what you know," she said haughtily. "There are no more Duke's guards. There is no more Duke. He's dead."

The tall man's smile faltered a little and his face became sad and thoughtful. "Yes, you're right. I guess we should say the Duchess's citadel and the Duchess's guards now, eh?"

Evvy shuffled her feet and did not reply.

"It just so happens," said the tall man, "that we were on our way to the Citadel ourselves. We are friends to the Duchess and if we like you enough, maybe we can help you get there more easily. But you'll have to tell us more about yourself."

Evvy hesitated. "Who are you? How are you friends with Pahan Sandry?"

At this, the pair exchanged surprised glances.

"There aren't many people who call her that whom I do not also know," said the girl, finally speaking up. "But much has likely changed in my absence." She regarded Evvy thoughtfully for a moment, then with fluid grace dismounted from her mare.

She pulled a trader's staff from the saddlebag it was nestled alongside, and walked up to Evvy. With a slight bow, she held the staff across her chest. "Daja Kisubo," she said. "Smith-mage and trader. This is my teacher and friend, Dedicate Frostpine of Winding Circle. We have just returned from a long journey…" she trailed off when she noted the shocked look that had overcome Evvy's features.

"That's why you were talking about Briar!" Evvy exclaimed. "You're his friend Daja! I've heard all about you!"

She smiled and extended an eager hand. "Evumeimei Dingzai. Stone-mage. Well, stone-mage-in-training, I guess. You can call me Evvy. I'm…"

"…Briar's student," finished Daja with a smile. Then she laughed and looked up at Frostpine. "Well that explains plenty," she said with a wink at him.

Frostpine too began laughing, quite heartily.

:-:-:

At the end of a very stressful day, Sandry found relief in the stables. Here at least was a place where the room's occupants did not watch and criticize every move she made.

Vedris's stallion, a tall glossy black creature, whinnied enthusiastically when he saw Sandry come through the door. With a sigh and a sad smile, she headed towards him, taking a sugar cube from the collection in her pocket that she'd pilfered from her tea tray that afternoon.

"Hey, Jasper," she said quietly, reaching out a hand to rub the soft hair on his strong neck. He nuzzled her shoulder affectionately, and she gave him the sugar cube.

"I'm sorry boy," she replied to his unvoiced query, "he's not coming back."

Hot tears sprang into her eyes, and she buried her face into the rough, musky-smelling mane of the horse. She stroked it, almost without noticing.

"I'm sorry boy," she said again. "I know how much he loved riding you."

Sandry thought longingly of the rides that she and her uncle had used to share. Bright, happy mornings when his health had been on the upswing. Oh! How she wished she could speak to him now! To hear his kind advice and non-judging nature. But the fact that he was gone was how she found herself in this mess to begin with! In everything that had happened the last few days, she hadn't even had a chance to properly grieve.

Briar's sentencing had been this afternoon. It was horrible. More horrible even than the trial had been, if that were possible. The court magistrate had sentenced him to death by beheading. The beheading was scheduled for a week hence. She had only a week to try and figure something out.

Briar's composure and staunch attitude throughout the whole thing had been perhaps the most painful part of all. His eyes had been aflame with anger, yet he made neither outcry nor protest. How could he just sit there like that? He had changed so much from the impulsive, temperamental youth who had been brought to Winding Circle for his last chance.

She felt so helpless and frustrated. At long last, her composure broke. Her tears came rapidly and unchecked, and her sobs wracked her small shoulders violently. In all the hustle and bustle of the murder and the trial, no one had stopped to realize that she might want to stop and think about him for a moment.

Jasper seemed somehow to sense what was going on. He stood stock-still, and provided a pillar of support.

He was not the only one who sensed it.

_Sandry? What's wrong? _

Sandry jerked with a shaky sigh from her weeping. She wiped her eyes hurriedly. _Daja! Where are you?_ Her friend already seemed much closer than she had two days ago.

_Just outside Summersea. We should be there within the hour. _

Somehow, a portion of Sandry's burden seemed suddenly lighter, and she sobbed with relief. _Oh, Daja. My uncle was murdered. And Briar…_

_I already know some of it,_ said Daja worriedly. _We_ _can discuss it when I get there._

Sandry began to nod, then remembered that her friend could not see the gesture. _Yes,_ she agreed instead. She swallowed and tried to compose herself.

_In the meantime,_ Daja continued, _I've picked up a traveling companion. A rather spirited little girl who says she knows you. _

Sandry sniffled and paused. She thought hard for a moment, then laughed, shaking her head. _Let me guess, _she said_, Evvy, right? _

Daja's bemused agreement broadcast clearly across the bond, and she did not need to confirm Sandry's guess with words.

_I'll see you soon, Daja. I'll go prepare for your arrival. I'm so anxious to see you. _

_Not long now, _saati,_ not long now. _

:-:-:

Daja, Frostpine, and Evvy were granted access to the Citadel with very little trouble. Daja noted the morose feeling that had settled over everyone there, and her heart grieved for her friend and everyone else here. She knew how much Duke Vedris had been loved and admired by his people. Indeed, she herself would miss him very much.

She made a mental note to offer up prayer to the trader gods that night for the Duke's soul. Surely he of all men would find balance in the great bookkeeper's records.

They arrived in the main courtyard. A member of the staff held Daja's mare steady as she and Evvy dismounted. As her feet hit the floor, she heard a familiar cry.

"Daja!"

She turned, to see Sandry, dressed in black, running towards her from the edge of the courtyard. She met her friend in three strides and they shared a warm embrace.

"Oh, Daja," said Sandry, smiling warmly, "it's so good to see you. Perhaps now things will go easier."

"I hope so," replied Daja gravely.

Sandry turned her smile and her embrace on Frostpine, who picked her clear up off the ground as she hugged him. She laughed.

"Look at you, little weaver!" he said in his booming voice. "All grown up and pretty. I'll wager every page and stable boy around here spends many a sleepless night thinking about you." His eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Frostpine!" Sandry cried, blushing. "What a ridiculous thing to say."

He laughed again, but quickly grew serious. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Sandrilene," he said sadly.

Sandry said nothing, only nodded gratefully. Then she turned her attention to Evvy.

"Well," she said, folding her arms, "I've sent a message to Lark, so she won't be too worried when she comes home to find you missing. Hopefully it won't get there too long after she does. I'm surprised you didn't run into her on the road."

Evvy shuffled her feet, and met Sandry's scolding gaze boldly. She shrugged.

Sandry sighed, and shook her head with a smile. "Come on," she said, gesturing her hand towards the main doorway. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

"So what did you think of Namorn?" Sandry asked Daja as they walked. "I've only been there once myself, when I was too little to remember."

"Cold," said Frostpine from behind them, before Daja could answer. "Very cold."

Sandry laughed. "Is that all?" she asked, twisting to face him. "Well, don't look at me like that. It's not my fault you were there in the winter!"

The conversation continued in this light, bantering tone until they were ushered into a private study. Sandry shut the door and turned around.

"It comes to this," she said, her voice a dead-serious tone. "My uncle was murdered two nights ago by plant magic. When we got to the scene, we identified the magic as Briar's. I knew it was his. Even Briar admitted it was his. He has been convicted by truthsayer Haman. I don't believe it. Something strange is happening. And we don't have much time to figure out what it is."

"Why?" asked Daja, alarmed.

Sandry swallowed, and gazed at the far wall as if seeing beyond it. "Because his sentencing was this afternoon. The death sentence, a week from today."

Evvy gasped, and sprang to her feet. "No!" she shouted. "That's not fair! He didn't do anything wrong. He should have more time!"

"I agree," said Frostpine. "This is all moving along much too quickly."

"I don't understand," asked Daja, confused. "Sandry, isn't there some way you can just grant him a pardon?"

Before she'd finished the question, Sandry was already shaking her head. "No. Not for this type of capital crime." She began pacing in agitation. "Besides, I don't just want Briar to be let off. I want him acquitted!" Her face was tense and angry. "He's worked so long and hard to prove himself worthy of people's trust. He doesn't need to have this haunting him the rest of his life. No, we need to figure this out. We need to prove his innocence."

Evvy was still looking panicked. "Well first we need to get him out! He can't stay in there! Why haven't you done anything?" she asked Sandry with a note of accusation.

"Hush, child," berated Frostpine sternly. "Unfortunately, it's not that easy for Sandry. She has more than just Briar's concerns to think about."

Sandry gave him a grateful look. She stopped pacing, and went over to the chair next to Evvy's, and spoke seriously to the girl.

"You know I would love nothing better than to devote all my attention to freeing Briar. The problem is that part of me cannot be swayed by my personal feelings, because I'm answerable to the people of Emelan whom I serve." She hesitated, obviously trying to think of the best choice of words. "One of the things that makes Emelan special is our justice system here. It protects the citizens, and gives us order. If the ruler just throws her nose up at the law and acts like she is above it, how will that look to the people of the country?"

"But Briar is innocent!" Evvy repeated.

Sandry sighed mournfully. "I know," she said. She stood up and resumed pacing. "I wish," she finally said, coming to a halt, "that there was a way I could make a decision that compromised neither my position nor my personal desires. But so it must be. We'll get him out. Tomorrow night would be best. It will give us time to plan properly."

Evvy still did not look satisfied. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, considering. At long last she nodded slowly.

"Good," said Sandry, "we're agreed. We wait until tomorrow." Then she groaned and put her head in her hands. "I've got a meeting tomorrow with the head of the merchant guild. Why this wretched strike had to come at this exact moment, I'm sure I don't know."

Suddenly, Evvy's jacket pocket started wriggling and mewling.

"Oh!" said the small girl, eyes widening. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small black ball of fluff. She held it out to Sandry. "Here, I brought you your cat."

Sandry took it with a genuine smile. "Thank you Evvy. That's the nicest thing that's happened all day."

Frostpine snorted and looked at Daja. "Lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things, don't you think?"

Everyone laughed, and Daja gave Sandry another warm embrace. "It's good to be home," she said.

:-:-:

The chambers that Sandry had assigned to Daja were very large and comfortable. But she found she couldn't relax. She was absolutely exhausted, but her mind was much too full for sleep. The suspicious events surrounding the Duke's murder were nagging at her mind.

She desperately wanted to speak with him. Idly, she wondered if it was too late to go visit him. She supposed there was no harm in trying.

The hallways were dark and quiet. She moved along as discreetly as possible, not wanting to disturb the already sleeping residents whose doorways she passed.

She'd made it all the way to the front hall when she did encounter someone. A young man with an authoritative bearing, he appeared to be a member of Sandry's personal guard. He was coming in the main door, as if just getting back from somewhere.

Daja was halfway down the staircase when he finally noticed her.

"Hello," he greeted cordially. "Awfully late to be up, isn't it?"

Daja raised her eyebrows speculatively. "I might say the same to you…" she trailed off, obviously waiting for him to identify himself.

He smiled, and held out a hand. " Penmic. Morer Penmic. Captain of Her Eminence's personal guard."

Daja accepted the handshake with a grave nod. "Daja Kisubo," she replied.

"Ah," he said. "That Daja. I had heard you'd returned today. Welcome home."

She nodded again.

"So what brings you out wandering tonight, Daja Kisubo?"

She tilted her head. "I was hungry," she said promptly. "Traveling as hard as we did takes a lot out of you. And I couldn't sleep. Too much to think about."

"I can well imagine," he replied with a nod. "The mage Briar Moss is a friend of yours as well, is he not?"

This young man was very perceptive. She would have to tread carefully around him. "Yes," she said, but did not elaborate.

"It's such a shame…" Penmic began regretfully, but trailed off. Daja was left to wonder what he thought was a shame.

"Actually," she said, "maybe you could help me. Would it be all right if I paid him a visit? I haven't seen him since I've returned. I won't cause any trouble, I promise."

"Very well. I've just been to see him myself. Just go into the courtyard and take the rightmost door, make a left, and take the staircase down. It shouldn't be too hard to find after that. Just follow the torches."

"Thank you, Captain Penmic," she said. "I appreciate it."

"Here," he said, reaching into his tunic pocket. He pulled out a signet ring on a chain and handed it to her. "They'll know I've given you clearance. Just return it to me in the morning. I'll be in the courtyard at seven to start my rounds of the city."

Daja took it with more thanks, and bid him goodnight.

:-:-:

Alone in his cell, Briar reflected on his recent interview with the Captain of the Guard.

"The purpose of my visit," Penmic had said, "is to ensure your comfort. The Duchess asked that you be kept as comfortable as possible. Are you getting enough to eat? To drink?"

"For a man facing certain death I'm as well as can be expected," Briar had replied dispassionately. "Tell the Duchess not to worry about me. Tell her to forget she ever knew me."

Then he was gone, leaving Briar to spend another cold night here.

The first night had been nothing short of torturous. He'd been in prison before but it had been nothing to this. Then he'd had nothing to live for, no dreams, and no ambitions. His life had finally come to mean something and now he was going to lose everything. Before he had not been forced to watch a dear friend have to suffer doubt and sorrow on his behalf.

Lost in thought, it was sometime before Briar began to hear strange noises outside his cell wall. Eventually, though a strange buzzing sound induced him to get up and look outside the grated door of his cell.

The sight that met his eyes was very surprising. The guards were all sleeping. Every single one of them. Like little children after a long day of play. They didn't look like they'd be arousing any time soon. And one of them was snoring, badly.

His alert senses suddenly detected a giggle coming from the opposite door of the cell. He peered into the darkness. A small figure eased around the doorway and fell into the torchlight.

Briar rolled his eyes.

"Surprise!" said Evvy.

"Shhh!" said Briar fiercely. "Evvy! What in blazes are you doing here? What did you do to the guards?" he asked, still looking at them in disbelief.

Evvy stuck her tongue out at him from the other side of the room. Then she held up her silver pouch, the one that Lark had given her. "Amethyst dust," she said. "I made it with my pestle before I came here. It's dread wonderful for inducing sleep. A common cure for insomnia."

"That's nice Evvy. I hope you didn't overdo it."

"Well," she said huffily. "Aren't we mister grateful! I've come to break you out, and all I get is a teacher lecture?"

Briar sighed and shook his head, smiling. "Fine. As long as you're here, do something useful, and look for the keys."

At that moment they heard the sound of footsteps outside the cell. Evvy froze, and Briar could swear the pounding of his heart grew so loud the whole Citadel could hear it.

He was never so shocked as he was upon seeing Daja walk into the room. She took around, taking in Briar, Evvy, and the snoring guards and shook her head.

"Evvy," she said disapprovingly, "we were supposed to wait until tomorrow night."

Briar laughed. "I see you two know each other already."

Daja grinned at him and walked over to his door, grasping his extended hand. "_Saati_," she said fervently, "can't you ever keep yourself out of trouble?"

He gave a wistful sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently not," he replied. "Welcome home, Daja."

"As welcome as can be expected," she agreed.

It was comforting to know that Daja had returned. Daja was the solid ground, the tie-post of the four friends. Briar, Tris, and Sandry were all quick, eager, and reckless in their own varying ways, but Daja was as steady as the beating of her own hammer. She would at least be a comfort and help to Sandry. Now the only loved ones he lacked were Tris and Niko, but no one was really quite sure when they would return.

Daja had turned her pointed gaze back on Evvy. The stone-mage lifted her chin proudly. "You heard what Pahan Sandry said. I figured if I did it tonight, she wouldn't have to worry about betraying her people and all that."

Daja had to privately admit that this was a very elegant answer, but she didn't want to indulge the child's impulsive initiative, so she kept her stern face. "Well, I guess since you've got this started, I'd best help you finish it."

While Evvy searched for the keys, Daja studied Briar's cell. "They've done something strange to your cell," she said. She ran her hand along the bars. "The spell is very strong."

"It's a spell to block my magic," he said with a sigh. "The harrier mages set it up. It's very effective actually. I feel blind and naked in here."

Daja shook her head sadly. She closed her eyes and spoke softly to the iron, and something strange happened. The spell, which they could both clearly see, seemed to be repelled away from the metal. With nothing to attach itself to, it was far less reliable.

"That ought to fool them for a while," she said regretfully. "I could get rid of it altogether, but I'm afraid that would make our exit less subtle than we would like."

"Here's the keys!" Evvy cried eagerly, brandishing them as she walked over. There were several, and the clinked loudly as she walked.

"Let me see," said Daja, holding out her hand. Evvy passed them over.

It took Daja only a moment to identify the correct key. She didn't even look at them, just closed her eyes and picked it out.

"Careful," said Briar as she put her hand to the latch, "the door's awfully squeaky."

Daja nodded and reached out with her magic to the hinges as well. These little gadgets: keys, locks, hinges, were all very familiar to her. She'd made dozens and dozens of similar type things in her work as a smith.

The door opened squeak-free for probably the first time in a decade. Daja let out a satisfied smile. Daja instructed Evvy to return the keys to their rightful owner. After that, they were ready to go.

They took the darkest corridors, and most deserted routes, heading for the back doors out through the kitchens.

As they walked through the main servant's hallway, tiptoeing as quietly as possible, Briar noticed a tall figure wearing a Duke's guard uniform. The man very obviously saw them. He paused, and the three friends halted in heart-pounding fear. But then the figure turned and walked the other way.

When they finally slipped into the street outside, Briar whispered, "Well, that explains plenty."

"What do you mean?" asked Daja.

"About why it was so easy to escape," he said. "It's Penmic. He let us go."


	7. Chapter Six

I apologize for the long wait between chapters! This was entirely my fault-it was hard getting this chapter done. I hope it was worth the wait! -Qwi-Xux

Note: To clarify, in this, Daja and Tris are seventeen, Briar is sixteen, and Sandry is almost sixteen. :-)

:-:-:

CHAPTER SIX

by Qwi-Xux

"Will they be able to trace your magic back to the cell?" Briar asked Daja in a low voice as they made their through the catacombs of the back alleys surrounding Summersea. Daja was not quite sure where they were going, but Briar seemed to have a destination in mind.

"No," Daja muttered back. "I only used magic on the hinges, and I erased the trace."

Briar nodded in satisfaction. "They won't be able to trace the magic back to Evvy, either. The only thing she spelled was the amethyst dust. Even if someone were able to tell that the drugged sleep the guards are in was amplified by magic, the traces of magic she put into it should be worn out soon with the dust."

"Briar, I'm supposed to return Penmic's signet ring at seven o'clock tomorrow morning," Daja said.

"Maybe you should hold onto it for now," Briar suggested.

Daja hesitated. "I think I'll go back and return it. He let us go; I'd like to know why. Anyone involved in this whole ordeal with you should be watched and investigated carefully. I want to know what his motives are. I'll go as soon as you and Evvy are safe, and then I'll come back and meet you. Don't worry; I'll make sure I'm not followed."

Briar studied her for a moment and then nodded his agreement.

True to her word, as soon as Briar and Evvy were hidden in an abandoned building in the Mire, Daja left. She had no doubt that Briar and Evvy could take care of themselves in the slums of Summersea. They had both once been street rats. They knew the type of people in this neighborhood. She was sure they would have been fine even if they didn't have magic in their favor.

They even looked the part-Briar in his plain white clothes, dirty from his time spent in the cell. His hair was ruffled and needed a washing. Evvy's clothes, while neat and clean, had been torn in the escape from the castle, and Briar made a point to stop and rub dirt on her clothes and cheeks.

As for Daja, she had no problem dealing with the type of people who lived in the slums. She had her magic and her staff. She was sure she would be able to get back to Briar and Evvy without a problem. Right now the sun was just rising, so her dark skin and clothes made it easy to blend into the alleys and buildings and get back into the less-deprived part of Summersea without troubles.

At six fifty-five exactly, when the sun had risen and was shining its early morning light on the Citadel, Daja appeared in the courtyard. Penmic was early, too. He was standing with his arms behind his back, seemingly waiting. For her?

"Captain Penmic," Daja said as she approached him.

Penmic turned and nodded once. "Mage Daja."

Daja pulled out his signet ring and hung it out on its chain. "Thank you for letting me use this."

"You're welcome." Penmic took the ring and tucked it into his pocket.

They stood there for a long moment, studying each other. "Why did you do it?" Daja asked bluntly.

"Do what?" Penmic asked.

Daja raised an eyebrow. Oh, he was playing her all right. Why? "You know what I'm talking about."

"Let's just say that I became a Captain so I could uphold something that I believe very greatly in. Something that Duke Vedris believed in, and that Duchess Sandrilene upholds: truth. It is something that I don't believe she would be mistaken about, even in dealings with her close friends. She's too honorable for that," Penmic replied, his eyes meeting Daja's seriously. "I may not know you, or Mage Trisana or Mage Briar, but I certainly have heard about you. The things that you four have done together has never been in harm of anyone." He hesitated for a moment. "And Truthsayer Haman...you would do well to look in on him. This is not the first case that has been-doubted by some. There was one in particular that you may find of interest. It occurred just after I started working at the Citadel, two years ago." He nodded at her again and said, "Good day, Mage Daja." He started to walk off on his rounds, and Daja knew that he had said everything he meant to.

Hmm...so he believed Briar innocent. And he thought she should check up on Haman.

Maybe she would pay Haman a visit before returning to Briar and Evvy. Briar, she called telepathically. There's been a change of plans. I'm not coming back right now. I have to go look into something.

Sandry was heading down for breakfast when she ran into Daja. The Trader girl had a distracted, yet determined, look on her face. "Sandry!" Daja stopped.

"Daja? You're filthy! What-"

"I was going to get changed."

Sandry quickly realized that something was going on. She gazed at Daja for a moment, then nodded. "Why don't you go get cleaned up, and then join me for breakfast."

Daja hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "I'll meet you in a few minutes."

Still puzzled at her friend's strange behavior, Sandry entered the dining hall and took her seat. The servant waiting on her asked what she wanted to eat for breakfast, so Sandry ordered a meal for herself and Daja. By the time Daja arrived, clean and in fresh clothes, the food was waiting on the table.

Sandry made sure to dismiss all of the servants. She waited for Daja to sit down and get food for herself before asking any questions. However, before she got a chance to ask anything, Captain Penmic entered the dining hall. He came to attention and nodded at Sandry and Daja. "Your Eminence, I have news. Briar Moss has escaped."

Shock ran through Sandry. What? Briar had escaped? A sense of relief washed over her-she didn't have to worry about trying to break him out of prison that night! But also worry-was he all right? Where was he? "How did he escape?"

Sandry couldn't help noticing that Penmic's eyes flicked over to Daja, and a trace of a smile crossed his lips. Then he straightened and said, "It is unknown, Duchess. The guards were all asleep."

Asleep? Sandry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Daja didn't put people to sleep...but maybe Daja had something to do with this. Then the thought crossed her mind, and she would have rolled her eyes if Penmic hadn't been there. Evvy! Who knew what kind of magic Evvy knew how to do...and Evvy was certainly an impatient child, from what she had seen.

Penmic still stood there. What did he want her to do? She could issue an alert to go look for Briar, but she knew the harriers would do that already. "Thank you for informing me, Captain. I'm sure the harriers are taking care of it."

Penmic nodded and strode out of the dining hall.

Sandry whirled on Daja. "I don't suppose you would know anything about this?"

Daja calmly took a bite of food, chewed, and swallowed. "Me, _saati?_ How would I know anything about this?" she asked idly.

Sandry let a small smile slip across her face. _Is Briar all right?_ she mind-spoke.

_Just fine. We're handling this, Sandry. Remember-you don't know anything. _

_No, I certainly don't. You haven't admitted to anything, now have you?_ Sandry's smile turned into a grin. _And I'm sure __Penmic__ doesn't know anything, either._ She didn't know what Penmic had to do with any of this, but she was sure he fit in there somehow. She couldn't believe Briar was already out-had her friends done this so that she wouldn't be held accountable for it? So that she couldn't know anything? Probably so-and she was grateful for their concern of her position. She was also upset that her position kept her from doing anything without serious ramifications-but she had utmost faith that Daja would be able to handle this-especially if she had Briar with her. _Now if only Tris were here... _Sandry sighed to herself.

Out loud, Sandry said, "So, what are your plans for today?"

"I'm going to speak with Truthsayer Haman," Daja replied calmly.

Sandry rose an eyebrow. "Haman?" She didn't ask why-if Daja wanted to investigate him, all the power to her. Sandry wanted to investigate him, but had no time, and no way to do it.

"And what are you doing today?" Daja asked in return.

Sandry sighed. "The usual. Trying to get affairs sorted out. I have a meeting with the head of the merchant guild this evening, remember?"

Daja nodded.

"I also received a list of the demands of the merchants on strike. It's utterly ridiculous!" Sandry said in exasperation.

Daja cocked her head. "What are their demands?"

"They want more freedoms as to what can be sold in Emelan-and the only things that can't be sold right now are the things that are illegal or dangerous! They want more for their wares, which will cause upheaval with the people. This isn't a good time for food, medicines, and other needs to be more expensive!" Sandry replied, frustrated.

Daja nodded wisely. "They might be able to get more for their wares later on, but right when Emelan is shifting rulers? And I think they might just be pressing their rights, in trying to sell things that aren't already sold. Perhaps they're testing you-seeing how you will give into them, or if you will."

Sandry rubbed her forehead. "Well, they'll see exactly how I'll deal with them this evening." She sighed again and then smiled slightly at Daja. "I'm so glad you're home, Daja."

"Me, too, Sandry." Daja reached over and pressed her hand on Sandry's. "Don't worry. This will all get worked out. We've been through hard times before."

That got a laugh out of Sandry. "Yes, indeed we have."

:-:-:

Paloma's attention was split. Every time she started to really get into what the instructor was saying, she remembered she was here to keep an eye on Pasco. While she had seen Yazmin briefly-the short woman had flitted into the room to speak with the instructor she had put in charge for the time being-she had yet to speak with her. Yazmin had originally cancelled all of the classes, but had decided that it would be best to keep her students' minds occupied, so she had brought this woman in to assist. Yazmin was very distracted by the Duke's death, and was 'attending to other matters' for a while.

Paloma didn't mind. She was a little disappointed that Yazmin wasn't teaching, but she was glad that the classes had been reinstated. What really mattered was that she was actually in Yazmin's dance school, learning more about how to dance.

Studying Pasco while he danced, she realized just how much he knew what he was doing with his body. He was so graceful. He also had a confidence in the way he danced, as if he had been born to do it. Which, she mused, if he was really a dance-mage, he had been born to do.

Paloma felt a twinge of jealousy, but quickly pushed it back. She might not be a dance-mage, but she could still learn all she could! And she could do it while watching Pasco-just like Master Haman wanted her to! She focused her attention on keeping an eye on Pasco, while learning her dance steps at the same time.

When the class was over, Paloma trailed after Pasco as he headed down the stairs. He noticed she was following him almost immediately. "Can I do something for you?" he asked, spinning around on her.

Paloma tried to think of a good excuse that would allow her to stay close to Pasco. "I...well, I don't know anyone here, and I've never been around other dance students." She hadn't been around other people her age, for that matter. Haman had taken up most of her time, and always kept her busy. That wasn't a bad thing-Haman was wise, and knew what was best for Paloma. He cared for her. Sometimes, though, it could be very lonely.

Pasco studied her for a moment, then sighed impatiently. "Look, I have magic stuff that I need to practice right now."

Paloma's attention perked up. "Magic stuff? What kind of stuff?"

"Meditation," Pasco replied, grimacing slightly.

Ah. Pasco had seen Master Haman meditate before, but had never tried it herself. He had told her it was used for containing magic, but she didn't have any magic.

Pasco watched her for a moment longer. "All right, you can come with me. You can meditate, too."

"But I don't have any magic-why would I need to meditate?" Paloma asked curiously, following Pasco down the stairs.

Pasco snorted. "You don't have to have magic to meditate. It can also help you calm your mind and organize your thoughts." He sounded as if he were quoting something somebody else had told him.

He led her to a small room and sat on the floor, then waved a hand for her to join him. "I used to have to be spelled in-Sandry had to put a circle of magic around me so my magic wouldn't leak out when I meditate. But now I have a good control on my own magic, so I don't need it anymore."

Then he taught her how to meditate. How to breathe in while counting to seven, hold your breath for seven seconds, then let it out while counting to seven again. How you needed to empty your mind of all its thoughts. It came naturally to Paloma. She had spent a lot of her life calming and controlling her mind.

After meditating for a while, Pasco and Paloma went back upstairs for their afternoon freelance class. Here, they had to show the dance instructor something of their own choice-something that they wanted to dance. Each student took turns. Pasco was one of the first to go, and Paloma was again in awe of his talent.

When it came time for her turn, Paloma was a bit nervous. She had never danced, alone, in front of anyone before. She took a deep breath and began a routine that she had designed for herself several months earlier. It was a calming, peaceful dance. It reminded her of sweet dreams that came with slumber.

She focused completely on the dance, not paying attention to the teacher or the students. When she finished her routine, she stopped and looked around. Shock ran through her body. Everyone-everyone except Pasco-was asleep.

Her first thought was, _did I really do that badly?/_

Then Pasco jumped to his feet and strode toward her. He grabbed her arm and hissed, "Why didn't you tell me you could do dance magic?"

Paloma's eyes went wide. "What? I-I can't!"

"Well, you just did," Pasco said grimly. "I felt it-you put them all to sleep! And they won't wake up!"

That was ridiculous. Paloma couldn't do any magic. She knew she couldn't. "Why aren't you asleep, then?" she asked, her voice very small despite herself.

"Maybe because I'm a dance-mage it didn't affect me." Pasco studied her. "I did something like this when I first found out I had magic. I danced my cousins into the air, then I had to undo it. You need to undo this."

"But-I don't know how!" _I don't have any magic!_ Paloma again thought.

"You danced a sleep dance. Now you need to dance a waking dance."

"I can't!"

Pasco sighed. "All right, listen. Normally you'd have to be the one to do this, but since we don't need your magic leaking everywhere, I'll do it."

"You can...undo magic by someone else?"

"I don't know. But I think because it's dance magic, I'll be able to. Now, go sit down," Pasco ordered.

Paloma obediently went and sat between the slumbering student. Pasco stood in the middle of the dance floor, drew a deep breath, and began to dance. Sure enough, by the time he had finished, everyone was awake.

The instructor looked at Pasco in bewilderment, blinking her eyes. "Pasco, what are you doing? You already had your turn."

:-:-:

Daja left Sandry with her purpose firmly in mind. She was going to speak with Haman, the truthsayer who had condemned Briar to death.

She found his home easily enough. It was a huge house in the upper-class area of Emelan, completely different from the Mire she had been in early this morning. She made sure the medallion she wore around her neck, proving that she was a mage, was showing. Normally, she kept it hidden, but in this case, she wanted Haman to know that she wasn't someone to be reckoned with.

A housekeeper answered the door. "I'm sorry, but Master Haman is busy right now," she told Daja.

Daja wasn't in the mood for games. She needed answers. She stuck her foot in the door as the housekeeper tried to close it. "I don't care how busy he is. I need to speak with him now. Would you please tell him that Mage Daja Kisubo would like a word with him?"

The housekeeper, looking very flustered, disappeared into the back of the house. Daja stood on the stoop and waited, her foot still stuck in the door.

A tall man with gray hair and eyes appeared a few moments later, the housekeeper trailing behind him. "Mage Daja Kisubo. Please come in." He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Daja followed him into a sitting room. She sat across from Haman. She had already decided that she didn't like him-and it wasn't because he had put Briar into prison. There was just something wrong about him. Something almost slimy. He gave her the chills.

The housekeeper came into the room carrying a tray of tea. She set it down on the table between them and left.

"Can I offer you some tea?" Haman asked, picking up a cup.

"No. I only came here to speak with you in regards to Briar Moss." Daja had decided that she was going to be as blunt as possible. She needed to get a reading on Haman-she needed to see how he reacted to certain things-or even how he didn't react.

"Ah. The plant-mage who killed Duke Vedris," Haman nodded, sipping on his own tea.

"Briar didn't kill him," Daja stated.

"You doubt the word of a truthsayer?" Haman asked, raising his thin eyebrows.

"Yes."

Haman's voice turned icy as he leaned forward slightly. "I have never been wrong. As a truthsayer, it is impossible for me to be wrong. I think that I, as a mage of many years, would have more experience than a girl of-"

"-seventeen," Daja cut in.

"Precisely."

"Age doesn't always make a difference when it comes to experience," Daja stated. "Especially magical experience." She thought of all of the things she had been through since coming to Winding Circle. She had been through so many hazards, she had become a mage, she had been a teacher to two students. It was impossible for anyone to judge her by her age.

"I think it awfully rude for a smith-mage to come in here and question my ability as a truthsayer," Haman said coldly.

Daja didn't ask how he knew she was a smith-mage. Everyone in Emelan knew that. She had gotten what she needed from Haman-there was definitely something wrong with him. Talking to him made it obvious. Her next step from here was to look into the cases he had handled as a truthsayer in the past. "Thank you for your time," she said, standing up.

As she turned to leave, Haman said, "You do know that Briar Moss has escaped from prison. It is spreading through Emelan. If you know his whereabouts, it would be wise to turn him in. Otherwise, you may find yourself beside him on the executioner's block-as an accomplice to murder."

Steaming, Daja ignored this and headed for the door. Before she got there, she ran into the housekeeper and a tall man. "I'll show you to his office," the housekeeper was saying.

Daja wouldn't have paid them any attention, except she recognized the tall man as a merchant. The merchants were all on strike-every single one of them. What would this merchant be doing in Haman's home? The housekeeper took the merchant into a room down the hall, giving Daja a hard stare. Daja reached for the door handle as the housekeeper disappeared into the sitting room. Listening carefully, Daja heard the housekeeper say, "Master Haman, the head of the merchant guild is waiting in your office."

Daja quickly slipped out the door. The head of the merchant guild? Maybe this was a perfectly innocent occurrence...but Daja had a dark sense that this was wrong. There was something very, very strange about all of this.

She headed down the stairs and out toward Haman's front gate. Before she got there, the gate burst open, and a young girl hurried through, followed by a teenage boy. "Paloma, calm down! We'll talk to Haman together!" the boy called.

"No, Pasco! You stay outside! I need to talk to Haman alone!" the girl, Paloma, called.

Daja stopped in her tracks. "Pasco?" she asked.

The boy also stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Who are you?"

Paloma slipped by them and into Haman's house.

"I'm Daja Kisubo. Are you Pasco Acalon? Sandry's student?"

Pasco's face lightened. "Yes. And you're her smith-mage friend. She's described you before."

"What are you doing here?" Daja wondered.

"Trying to help Paloma-a girl who started at the dance academy yesterday. She just found out she has magic. Haman is her guardian," Pasco replied. He looked anxiously toward the front door.

Haman had a girl in his care? A girl that had magic? He didn't strike Daja as the type of person to care about a little girl.

_Hmmm...I wonder if Sandry knows about this, _Daja mused. She nodded to Pasco. "I have to be going. Does Sandry know you're here?"

"Umm, sort of," Pasco replied, not meeting Daja's eyes.

_So Sandry doesn't know he's here,_ Daja sighed to herself. "Be careful," Daja said aloud, giving Pasco a stern look. She didn't see any harm in leaving him here-he was with Paloma, after all. She would let Sandry deal with him. She told him good-bye, then left Haman's property. _Sandry,_ she called.

_Yes?_ Sandry's harried voice came back.

_Did I catch you at a bad time? _

_It's always a bad time lately, Daja. Right now I have a bunch of harriers here, doing an investigation on Briar's escape. But don't worry about me-is something wrong? _

_I just ran into your student at Truthsayer Haman's house, _Daja said.

_Pasco? He was supposed to be at the dance academy! What is he doing at Haman's house?_ Sandry exclaimed.

_Apparently, he's with a girl who he said just found out she has magic. Her name is Paloma-she's Haman's ward. Pasco said that she just started at the dance academy yesterday. _

There was a long silence from Sandry. _What? But... _she trailed off.

_But what? _

_Daja, Rosethorn just arrived. Could you come to the Citadel? I think we need to discuss this in person, and Rosethorn should probably hear it, too. And I'll find Frostpine. _

_Of course. I'll be there shortly. _

:-:-:

Pasco was distracted talking to that woman outside, so Paloma was free to slip into the house. The housekeeper, Leni, saw her and frowned. "I thought you had gone to the dance academy, Paloma."

"I did. But I'm back for a little bit," Paloma said tensely. She didn't want to tell Leni what was going on. She had a lot of questions and emotions boiling around inside of her. She was still confused about her magic-Pasco had pretty much shown her that she had magic, but it was so hard to believe! How could she, Paloma, have it? Wouldn't Master Haman have known? She was also excited. She couldn't wait to tell him! He would be so pleased!

Pasco had wanted her to speak with his teacher, Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, but she had insisted on coming to Master Haman. For one, she didn't know Sandrilene-and Master Haman was working on a plot to kill her-for the good of Emelan, of course, but how could Paloma face Sandrilene knowing this? And secondly, Master Haman would know what to do. He would answer any questions she had.

Paloma waited for Leni to disappear into the kitchen, then headed for Master Haman's study, where he spent a lot of his time. She was about to push open the door when she heard voices.

"-keep it going for a while," a strange man's voice was saying. "The merchants are doing their job. We're keeping our end of the bargain. When this plan is complete-"

"When the plan is complete," Master Haman's voice spoke up, "you will be much freer in Emelan, because I will be ruling. And the mages will no longer get in the way. Especially the Four. They are quite a nuisance. And Winding Circle will be changed. The mages of Winding Circle have no respect for what true mages should be! They let anyone into their ranks!"

"What about the students of the Four?" the other man asked. "Word is Briar Moss has a student who magics rocks. No one's seen her yet. And what of Pasco Acalon? We had been going to get rid of him originally, but as you know, Briar Moss took precedence."

"I have Paloma at the dance academy keeping an eye on him. When the time comes, he will be destroyed."

"She's a child. Is she able to handle this?"

"Paloma is entirely under my influence. She will believe anything I say. I could tell her that the moon is made of bread and she would believe me. She will also do anything I tell her to. That's all she's good for," Haman said lazily.

Paloma took an inadvertent step back from the door. Never had she heard Master Haman say anything so hurtful! He had always made her feel needed and wanted...

"Paloma could be smart, but fortunately, she doesn't use her brain for anything other than doing what I tell her to. That's what comes of being brainwashed at a young age. I'll use her for what I have to, and she will do her job," Haman said.

Use her...use her...was that all she was to Haman? A pawn to be used? She could be smart, but he didn't think she was smart? Paloma's eyes filled with tears. Was it true? Was she stupid? No. No! She wasn't stupid! She could read and write and do her math and science...but...it was true that she generally did whatever Master Haman wanted her to. She wanted to please him, in return for all his kindness and goodness!

Had it gone to the point where she never thought for herself anymore? That she only thought and did what Haman wanted her to?

Could she even think for herself anymore?

Paloma took another step back, wiping the tears from her eyes. She glared at the door. He was wrong about her! She would prove that he was wrong! She had magic, she could use that how she wanted, and not how Haman told her to. What would he say then?

Paloma turned and crept back down the hallway, then threw open the door and ran out. Pasco was waiting for her. Pasco, who Haman had been going to frame...going to frame, just like Briar, because it was right. Master Haman said it was right. He was sad about it, but he knew best.

Or so Paloma had thought. But she had thought that he cared for her, and now it was obvious that he didn't. She was just a tool to him. Well, she could throw that right back in his face! "Pasco, I need to speak with Lady Sandrilene."

:-:-:

Sandry's mind was a whirling pool of thoughts and emotions. She was trying to deal with so many things. She still didn't know what was going on with Briar. At least she could truthfully tell people that she didn't know what had happened to Briar. She so desperately wanted to contact him in her mind, but she knew she had to avoid finding out anything about what he was doing or where he was. Why did her rise to Duchess have to get in the way now?

Rosethorn had arrived in the middle of the mess of harriers with news for Sandry, which was now repeated for Daja and Frostpine. The four were in a small room in the citadel, discussing everything that was going on.. "I finished my investigation of the grain fields outside of Winding Circle. Briar was indeed there the whole night. He was there when Duke Vedris was killed. I felt his magic there, and the plants don't lie."

Sandry's smiled again at the news.

"That's good news, anyway," Daja said. "Briar probably had connected with the grain plants while in the fields, so of course his magic would be there."

"Yes, but who will believe it? As far as the people of Emelan are concerned, he was sentenced by a truthsayer, and now he's an escaped convict," Rosethorn snapped. She looked more tired than anything, and was just as frustrated as everyone else.

"We'll work that out. The good thing is, you have proof. You're very well-respected, Rosethorn," Sandry put in.

"I'm also Briar's former teacher. A lot of people might not believe evidence that I have."

"I'm going to send some harrier-mages out to investigate the grain fields. Would you mind going with them and showing them Briar's magic? They'll be able to see how long it was there and such," Sandry requested.

"Of course I will. I wouldn't let the harrier-mages go there alone. Who knows what they would do to the grain?" Rosethorn said, sounding much like her usual self.

"Daja learned something that makes me awfully suspicious," Sandry said, nodding at Daja.

Daja recounted her conversation with Haman.

Frostpine frowned. "It could have been dangerous, going to his home by yourself, if he is part of a conspiracy against Briar."

"I was fine, Frostpine." Daja smiled at her former teacher's concern. "But I think I could handle him."

"Anyway," Sandry broke in. "Daja learned that Haman has a girl in his care, who supposedly has magic." She let Daja explain about her encounter with Pasco and Paloma, and then said, "This is awfully suspicious. This girl-Haman's ward-was sent to the dance academy, where Pasco is, yesterday. The day of Briar's sentencing. A sentencing that was proclaimed by Haman. Why would Haman send his ward to my student's dance academy just after my uncle's murder? And just how would Paloma end up having dance magic-a magic that I've only ever seen with Pasco? Why does that strike me as odd?"

Rosethorn frowned. "I don't trust Haman at all."

Daja nodded. "I don't trust him either. There's something very wrong with him. And Sandry-while I was there, I saw the head of the merchant guild go to speak with him."

This was news to Sandry. She sat up straighter. Her meeting with the head of the merchant guild was tonight. "The merchant guild? What would he be doing there? Do you think there's a connection between the strike and my uncle's murder, or Briar's trial?"

"I don't know, but the merchant strike happening now is very strange. I was planning on investigating that, too," Daja said.

Frostpine frowned. "Daja..."

Daja gave him a fond look. "Now, Frostpine, you were the one who said I was qualified as a full smith-mage. Besides that, I think I'm old enough to qualify as an adult. I can watch out for myself."

Frostpine sighed. "I know you can." He smiled warmly. "It's still ingrained in me to watch out for you, though."

Before anything else could be said, the door to the small room burst open. Pasco and a girl around his age stood at the doorway trailed by several guards. "They insisted on seeing you, milady," one of the guards said. "And I knew that the Acalon boy was your student..."

"It's fine, Josef. Thank you." Sandry dismissed them with a nod, then turned to face Pasco and the girl who had to be Paloma. "I'm actually glad you're here."

Paloma had smooth dark hair that fell around her shoulders and brought out her bright green eyes. She also looked incredibly nervous. Sandry thought it might have something to do with being in the Citadel, or perhaps she was intimidated by Sandry. There was a guilty look on her face, as if she had been caught with her hand in the bread box, but there was a stubborness in her eyes that Sandry liked.

Despite Sandry's frustration and anxiety with the current situation, she managed to give the girl a small smile. "I won't bite," she promised. She studied Paloma carefully. She wanted to know if she really did have magic. Paloma shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and Sandry saw a brief flash of silvery-white in the girl-so faint and elusive that it almost wasn't there. "You do have magic," she told Paloma, frowning as she tried to see the magic better. "But...it's so hidden...it's like it's not there." She glanced over at Daja. "Do you see it?"

"Barely. It disappears when you try to get a closer look at it," Daja said.

Paloma swallowed hard and took a step back. "I...I can't have magic," she whispered. "He would have told me if I did."

Sandry raised her eyebrows. "Who would have told you? Haman? Not many people can see ambient magic, Paloma. You would be difficult to identify."

Paloma shook her head. Sandry could see an inward struggle going on in her eyes. "He lied to me. He lied."

Sandry frowned again, even more puzzled. "Who, child?" She didn't realize how much she sounded like Lark until she said that.

"My-my master," Paloma said dizzily.

"Haman." Sandry pressed her lips together. "He-"

Pasco interrupted her. "Sandry, Paloma has news that proves Briar's innocent."


	8. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

By Sache8

As soon as Daja had departed that morning, supposedly leaving them to hide in an abandoned fletcher's shop in the Mire, Briar had wasted no time in relocating himself and Evvy to a much more secure location, just before the sun had crested in the east.

The hideaway he'd chosen was tucked in between the very foundations of the city itself, part of a small, secret network of such places, which the street people simply referred to as the Holes. The entrance to this particular Hole was underneath a vegetable seller's stall. Briar doubted the man had any idea his stall was an important landmark to the urchins, pickpockets, and even more unsavory denizens of Summersea's underworld.

There were a great many unspoken rules regarding the Holes, which everyone knew, and which nobody ever, ever broke. They were refuges for those on the run. They were not to be entered or existed in the daytime, and Briar had toed the line on that particular rule by entering this one so close to dawn.

If someone knew you were using a Hole to hide, he would not betray you, even if he wanted to, because he would betray the existence of the Holes. You were safe until you left. Briar had never told Sandry, Tris, or Daja about them. If such an action on his part were ever discovered, not only would his own head be served on a platter, but the girls' lives would be in very great danger too, especially Sandry's. It was strange, having a secret he could tell Evvy, but not Sandry.

The Hole was tight, uncomfortable and very dirty, but he had come here because he needed time to rest and time to think free of anxiety of being caught. Unfortunately, he and Evvy were now absolutely starving, which was a factor he had already berated himself for not thinking of, but they had no choice. They were stuck here until nightfall.

Evvy entertained herself for a while by playing finger games with a piece of string in her pocket. They meditated together, and Briar helped Evvy practice keeping a tight, contained control on her power, which was particularly useful in the present circumstances. They did not want to betray themselves inadvertently by catching the attention of every mage for blocks around with an uncontrolled burst of Evvy's power. Briar was proud of how she was progressing.

After awhile she fell asleep, and he had time to do his thinking. Of one thing he was certain. He was most assuredly not going to sit and hide while his friends tried to work out the tangle that had landed him here. The trouble was, he was not exactly sure how to go about contributing. Without a doubt, everyone in the city would know his face by the end of the day, if they hadn't before, so how was he to move about? And what exactly was he to do?

The day waned longer and longer, and his growing hunger made him progressively more cranky. By the time for the evening meal, he still had not come up with anything, and the frustration was eating at him.

_Are you still safe?_ The sudden arrival of Daja's thoughts into his head made him jump, and he hit his head on the low ceiling of brick and earth above him. Biting his tongue to keep from swearing out loud, he rubbed his head and called back to her.

_Safe, yes. Comfortable, no,_ he replied irritably.

Daja's feelings over the bond seemed bemused. _I have a great deal to tell you. _

He listened in fascination as she told him of her meeting with Penmic, her encounter with Haman, and the arrival of this Paloma girl at the Citadel. Obviously, she'd had a very busy day.

_Paloma is resting right now,_ Daja continued. _Even though we're all dying to know what she has to say, Sandry insisted that she get some food and some rest first. She's very out of sorts right now. Apparently, she put a lot of stock in this Master Haman of hers. Briar, do you think there's any way you could make it back to the Citadel tonight before she wakes up? I think you should be here. She insists she has proof that you're innocent. _

A wild hope arose in his chest, but he tried to keep his cool. _I can't come until after dark at least,_ he said. _And I don't know if I should come at all. It's too dangerous for Sandry if I were to be caught hiding there._

_Daja was silent for a moment, and she seemed to be considering his words. What will you do then?_ she finally asked.

_I think…_ he began. _I'm going to do some snooping in the harbor. You say you think the merchants are in cahoots with Haman?_ He laughed quietly to himself. _Wonder what ol' Coppercurls would think of that, eh? Anyway, maybe I can learn something. I'm certainly less likely to be found there than close to the Citadel or back towards Winding Circle. _

_Very well. Be safe. You must let us know if you need help. _

_I will,_ he assured her. Then, hesitantly, he asked, _How is Sandry doing? _

_As well as can be expected,_ Daja said soberly. It _makes me angry that everyone expects her to be able to handle all this with no problems. They won't even give her space to grieve for the dead. _

Briar clenched his fists involuntarily at his sides in anger. _Send her my regards. I know she'll get through this just fine._

Daja seemed surprised. _I_ _will, of course, but… why don't you just tell her yourself?_

He blushed slightly, glad that Daja could not see his face. How could he tell her that talking to Sandry these days made him feel awkward and clumsy, that it both terrified and exhilarated him? _She has enough on her plate,_ he said offhandedly_. I'll only bug her if I need to._

_Well, okay,_ Daja replied uncertainly. _I'll report back when I have more news. _

_Okay, goodbye. _

When Briar opened his eyes, he found Evvy staring at him with a slight scowl on her face. To his relief, the light coming through the small crawlspace that served as their doorway was quickly waning, and he could hear the sounds of the vendors outside heading for home. Perhaps in another hour, they could risk leaving.

"Are you always going to be doing that?" Evvy asked him.

"Doing what?"

"Talking to people in your head."

He scruffed her hair playfully. "Yes," he said. "Sorry 'bout that. I'll try not to do it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't make me uncomfortable, it makes me bored," she said, causing Briar to laugh.

"Well, it does have its uses," he told her. "Now listen, here's what we're going to do."

:-:-:

Sandry calmly sipped her after-dinner tea as she watched Pasco pace the floor around the small tea table.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, child," Rosethorn finally snapped at him. "Sit down and be still. What on earth is your problem?"

Pasco scowled at Rosethorn, but sat down in the seat next to her obediently.

"What is wrong, Pasco?" Sandry asked him more gently.

"Nothing," he answered sullenly.

"That's code for 'something I feel stupid about discussing and I want people to feel sorry for me'" Rosethorn said, with little sympathy in her voice. Her hands were furiously knitting a green piece of cloth with fine linen thread. Sandry had been surprised when Rosethorn had asked if she could borrow knitting supplies, but had lent them most willingly. She'd had no idea Rosethorn even knew how to knit, let alone enjoyed it. It seemed to be a rarely used form of stress relief for the older woman. "I have no time to indulge children in their useless self-pity," Rosethorn continued, not looking up from her work, "so spit it out."

Pasco glared at Rosethorn, crossing his arms and stiffening in his chair. When this action gained him no response, he finally seemed to concede. He sighed wearily and looked at Sandry. "Do you think…?" he began, hesitating. "I mean, I never actually met Mage Briar…"

Sandry tilted her head curiously, but gave him time to continue. "What I mean to say is," he finally managed to say, "will Briar be upset that I thought he was guilty?"

"Knowing him, he'll probably be more upset that you didn't take Sandry's word than he will your suspicions of him," Rosethorn said mildly. Pasco's eyes widened in alarm, and Sandry shot a quick glare in Rosethorn's direction. The plant mage suddenly seemed to realize that these words were not the most appropriate choice, because she dropped her knitting needles with a small laugh and looked kindly at Pasco. "I'm sorry, child, I didn't mean to alarm you. Trust me, Briar is the last person to harbor any resentment in such a case. He knows all too well that trust is a precious and fragile thing. Your reaction is perfectly understandable given the circumstances. If I had not ever known Briar in my life, I would doubtless have felt the same way."

"And I as well," Sandry reassured her student kindly. Pasco did not seem quite fully convinced, but he did seem calmer.

Presently, Lark entered the room with Daja in tow. "How is she doing?" Sandry asked, placing her teacup on the table and standing.

"She's still asleep, but I'd wager she'll wake soon. We should probably discuss how to keep her safe, Sandry. What if this Haman learns of her visit through the housekeeper? The dance academy doesn't even know where she is, what if they report to him?" Sandry's heart caught in her throat. These were things she hadn't even taken into consideration.

Pasco was on his feet in an instant. "I'll go tell Yazmin," he said helpfully. "If it's not too late. She'll know how to keep things quiet." Sandry nodded thankfully to him and he rushed out of the room as quickly as his nimble feet would carry him.

"As for Haman learning of her visit," Rosethorn added, "there's not really much to be done about that, should it happen. We still don't even know exactly why it was she was so upset over her experience there. Perhaps it is nothing to cause us any alarm."

"She cried for over an hour," Lark said, her large eyes wide with worry. "I couldn't do much for her. It's like someone took the very foundation of her world and crumbled it right under her feet."

"She will need our support," Sandry said. "And we will need to keep her presence as secret as possible." Fortunately, Lark and Daja had overseen her Paloma's welfare since her arrival, and very few of the servants knew she was here, and even they did not know who she was.

"I'm very interested in the possibility that this murder and the ill timing of this merchants' strike are not coincidental," Rosethorn noted.

"Briar is too," said Daja. "He said he's going to look into it."

Sandry stiffened and she whirled around to face Daja, her face angry. "No!" she cried out. "He needs to stay hidden, he can't be risking himself doing anything! You tell him I order him to stay quiet."

Daja seemed taken aback. She blinked a couple times. "Briar knows how to take care of himself, Sandry," she said gently. "What is with you two, anyway? All of a sudden it's like you don't want to talk to each other."

Sandry gulped awkwardly, and cast furtive glances at Lark and Rosethorn. Lark seemed preoccupied with Sandry's sudden outburst. Concern shone in her eyes, but Rosethorn was intent on her knitting, and a speculative look was on her face.

If Rosethorn suspected something, she did not say. Daja still seemed bewildered. "Talk to him," she urged, gently squeezing Sandry's shoulder. "He said to say he sends his regards. I don't know why he was being so formal, but you're going to both get over whatever hesitation this is. I mean, honestly, you're letting what everybody else thinks of him affect your relationship."

Sandry flushed and turned away. If only it were that simple. If only Daja understood the truth. But she nodded her head as if in agreement with her friend's assessment. "I'll talk to him," she agreed. "Later, after we hear what Paloma has to say."

:-:-:

The first order of business for Briar and Evvy was supper. They had slipped as quietly as possible out of their hiding place, and shared identical winces as their stiff, tired muscles stretched again to their full length. A few meat pies pilfered from an unattended back kitchen helped to ease the knawing of their hungry stomachs. Briar made sure to take note of where their unsuspecting benefactor lived, so that he could find them for repayment when his troubles were over.

An hour later they stood together, studying the dark, hulking shadows of the merchants' ships clustered together in the harbor. Pale light from the flickering street lamps sparkled in the black water, aided by a bright, full moon overhead. Their eyes, now well-adjusted to the evening shades, could study some of the details of the ships before them.

"That one belongs to the head of the guild," Briar whispered, pointing to a slender sloop close by.

"What makes you think so?" Evvy asked, also whispering. She looked at him doubtfully. "It's not as big as some of the others."

"You learn a few things spending four years with a daughter of a prominent merchant family," he said smugly. "I don't care how big it is, that ship has by far the most advantageous docking position in the harbor. Likely it's only the owner's personal craft. I'm sure he has a whole fleet of cargo vessels."

"Oh," she replied. They studied the sloop in silence for a moment. "How are we supposed to find something out?"

Briar grinned. "Why, get on board and snoop of course. Only we are not going to do it, I'm going alone."

"Briar!" Evvy hissed, grabbing his sleeve. "You can't go, you're in enough trouble already."

"Exactly. What's a little more going to hurt? I've got you involved enough in this. You stay here and keep a lookout for me."

Evvy sighed. "How will I warn you if you should need warning?"

Briar eyes darted around the dark street. Unfortunately, this setting was not the most advantageous for a plant mage. Smooth cobblestones beneath his bare feet gave way only to wooden docks and choppy water further on. Empty vendors' stalls littered the causeway, which in a few hours would be filled with a night's catch of fresh fish and the loud voices of fish-hawkers. It took longer than usual, but at last he was able to find a tendril of a climbing ivy vine hiding itself in a corner of a nearby warehouse. He walked Evvy over to it.

"This is a good place for you to hide anyway," he told her. He pulled the vine slightly away from the wall and put it in her small hand. "Just concentrate very hard on anything you think I need to know, and make sure you're holding onto this. I'll get the idea." Evvy had worked with him too long to think this suggestion odd. She merely nodded and grasped the vine more tightly.

Briar slipped off his shoes, stockings, and shirt, and handed them to Evvy. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I have to swim to the ship, Evvy. How did you think I was going to get there? Fly?"

She rolled her eyes and clutched his things, slinking back into the shadow to conceal herself.

Briar wasted no time in slipping to the edge of the nearest dock. He just had to trust his luck and the dark that no one observed him slipping as quietly as possible into the murky harbor.

The water was terrible. Besides being terrifically cold, it was also somewhat stagnant. Bits of trash and debris cluttered the narrow spaces between the docks, and the whole thing stank of fish. In an effort to distract himself, he placed bets on the chances that Evvy would have made new feline friends upon his return, and how many. He was thankful for the extra swimming pointers Daja had given him over the years, which enabled him to get there very quickly and, more important, very quietly.

He treaded water for a moment, trying to decide how to board, when he felt a mental alert from the ivy vine in Evvy's hand. There were five men on the docks boarding a rowboat. She wasn't sure, but they were very well dressed, and she suspected they might be headed his way.

Briar swam over to the thick, strong chain that held the ship at anchor to the bay floor below. He turned so that the ship's bulk was behind him, and turned back to look at the market causeway he had just come from. He saw the boat Evvy had described then, just visible in the lamplight, pushing off from the dock. It did not take long to realize they were indeed heading for the sloop he was now treading beside in plain sight.

As the rowboat came closer, Briar grasped the anchor chain and lowered himself slowly so that only his head from his nose up was still above the water line. He willed himself to keep as still as possible, and hoped he was well-enough concealed when the rowboat stopped at the base of the ship, just a few feet from his own position. As Evvy had said, there were five men inside, four of them very well-dressed indeed. The fifth seemed merely to be the oarsman.

As his limbs grew more and more chilled from the lack of movement in the chilly water, Briar watched as the oarsman called softly to the deck above him, and the four rich men were one-by-one hoisted up and over the rail on a rope chair. They did not speak unless necessary, and the silence only made the pounding of Briar's heart and the sound of his breath against the water seem deafening in his ears.

When the last of the four men had ascended, the oarsman began rowing his boat towards the anchor chain. Briar clenched his hands more tightly under the water, wondering what he should do now. He guessed that the oarsman was to wait upon the return of the other four, and was coming to tie off the rowboat while he waited. This could be perhaps Briar's best chance. He freed on of his hands from their nervous grasp around the anchor chain, and pulled a small dagger that Evvy had given him after his escape.

Still keeping quiet, he watched the man carefully, hoping he wouldn't be spotted, and waited for the right moment. He needed to time it carefully, because the man had quite the advantage, being both above Briar and in the boat. If Briar had wanted to kill the man it might have been easier to manage, but that was hardly his desire.

Finally, the moment came. The man had already tied the boat off and was settling against the side to wait. The boat drifted in a slow circle, and reached a point where the man's back was to Briar and the oar, still jutting over the side, was within Briar's grasp.

Hoping he wouldn't make too much noise, Briar put the dagger in his teeth, grasped the chain in one hand and reached up to grasp the oar in the other. Then he vaulted over the side, landing with a solid thunk, and had the dagger in the small of the man's back before he could say "jack-flash."

"Just stay still," Briar whispered. "Do as I say, and you'll live, I promise you."

"Oy! Jazer!" a voice called over the railing. "Everything okay down there?"

"Tell him you almost lost the oar," Briar prompted, poking the dagger a little for emphasis.

"The oar almost got away from me, 'mate!" Jazer called back up. "Had to scramble real quick-like to catch it!"

There was a round of hearty laughter from above, which seemed unusually loud in the murky night. "You been at the toddies agin, haven' ya?" called the other man. "Havin' trouble with a wee rowboat? Like a landlocked lass whose never seen the water afore…" This was followed by another round of laughter that began to drift away. Briar breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Now," he whispered, reaching over and grabbing an extra length of rope, "you just sit here nice and quiet until I get back. Don't try anything funny. I've got a friend on the dock watching my back. A friend with talents you don't want to know intimately, trust me." Briar did not, of course, mention the fact that his friend was a ten-year-old former pickpocket whose chief undesirable talents were incessant prattling and the knack to attract every stray cat in the city.

When the man was sufficiently bound and gagged, Briar eased the boat over to the rope still dangling from the ship's side and climbed up it as discreetly as possible. When he reached the top, he listened carefully for sounds of any nearby patrols.

_Where are Tris's handy breezes when you really need them?_ he thought wryly to himself. Not that it would have been much help to him, without also having Tris's abilities to listen to what the wind carried to her. Of course, if he'd had that useful talent, he wouldn't have been here in the first place, he would have just sent the breezes to follow the men on board and report back to him.

He found it decidedly ironic that of the four of them, it would be he that ended up here. Any of the girls would have done better. Tris had been raised in the merchant world. Daja had spent more of her life on board a ship than on land, and Sandry…

Well, he conceded. Maybe Sandry would have had a harder time than he would. He might not be familiar with boats, but the skills of a former thief were definitely more useful for this purpose than those of a girl with an aristocratic pedigree.

Thoughts of Sandry and the other girls brought his attention back to the problem at hand. Deciding the way above sounded clear, he edged over the railing and dropped silently to the deck.

:-:-:

Sandry could not help but feel a swell of pity as she watched Paloma sitting nervously across the room, her small frame diminished in a large, high-backed chair. The girl's eyes, already red-rimmed and dim from too much crying, were now filled with apprehension.

Sandry had locked the tea room so that the gathering there could be assured of some privacy. In addition to herself and Paloma, Rosethorn, Lark, Frostpine, and Daja were also present.

"Just take your time, dear," Lark told Paloma gently.

The girl swallowed and trembled, but managed a weak nod. "All my life," she began timidly, "since before I can remember, I've lived with Master Haman. I always assumed it was his charity, though now I'm not so sure. He told me I had no magic, but you say that I do." She hesitated. "Master Haman…" she looked fearfully around the circle.

"Yes?" prompted Frostpine, leaning forward.

Paloma closed her eyes. "Master Haman hates Winding Circle," she said quickly. She opened her eyes, almost as if expecting some kind of reprimand for these words, but when none came, she continued. "He was trained at Lightsbridge, you know, and… he and his friends have long despised the Winding Circle way of doing things. They do not agree with… ambient magic."

Rosethorn made a clucking sound with her tongue, and Sandry looked over to see the woman's arms folded and her lips set in a tight, disapproving line. "Maybe tomorrow they'll decide not to agree that the sun should rise in the east, as well. Do they think ambient magic is something we invented?"

Paloma looked confused. "What do you mean, Mage Rosethorn?"

Everyone else in the room besides Sandry exchanged looks of mild surprise. "Ambient magic just… is, Paloma," Lark explained. "It comes from the inside. Briar here had no choice in his affinity for plants, any more than Sandry for her connection to thread. Just because someone does not agree with it doesn't make it any less of a reality."

Paloma seemed very surprised. "I… didn't know that," she finally managed to say.

"So what did Haman plan to do about this… Winding Circle problem," Frostpine asked Paloma as he crossed his arms, a wry smile on his face.

"He… his plan was to take over the city of Emelan. He hoped that with authority in the city, he could influence the workings of the temple, and bring it around to his views."

Sandry peered at her intently. "And just how did he decide to accomplish this?" she asked. She had a terrible feeling she already knew the answer.

Paloma hung her head, and her next words were muttered so quietly that all the others had to lean forward and strain their ears to hear her. "Master Haman has a great deal of influence with Count Farinte, to whom the regency should fall if Vedris's bloodline were to be… eliminated."

Rosethorn and Lark both glanced at Sandry here, and Lark seemed very pale.

Paloma continued, "I don't know how well you know the count…"

"Very well," Sandry supplied.

"Then you know he's rather, well…"

"Impressionable?" Sandry prompted, trying to help.

Rosethorn snorted. "Spineless and pliable would be better words. I can see the root of Haman's plan. Farinte would be a puppet ruler only."

Paloma nodded.

"Paloma?" Sandry asked hesitantly. "My cousins… they died a few weeks ago, in a carriage accident…"

Paloma blanched, and bit her lip, her eyes wide. Then she whispered, "it was no accident my lady. And I'm afraid that your life may still be in terrible danger. You see, Duke Vedris was not the only person who was supposed to die two days ago. Master Haman had no way of knowing that you would not be in residence at the Citadel. I don't imagine he was very pleased. I think he wanted to be rid of you most of all."

Sandry took a deep, steadying breath, and managed to keep herself under control. Assassination attempts were not unfamiliar to her. But never before had any attempt hit so close to home. A small part of her had in fact died with her uncle, so in some ways Haman had been successful. "Paloma, you know that Haman framed Briar, but… how did he do it?"

"He wasn't originally going to!" Paloma cried suddenly. "He was originally going to frame…" she trailed off, and her eyes became wider than they had heretofore, and Sandry found herself wondering if they would pop right out of Paloma's face.

"Who?" Daja asked.

"Pasco," whispered Paloma. "He was going to frame Pasco. And I… and I… I was going to help him do it." She buried her head in her hands and her shoulders began shaking with muffled sobs.

The others all shared uncertain glances for a moment, and finally Lark went over to Paloma's chair and knelt down beside it. "I know it's hard, Paloma, but you're going to have to finish telling us what you know."

Sandry was fighting an internal battle. Part of her felt an immense swell of pity for this poor girl, but the other part felt revolted and disgusted. How could she have been so blind to go along with this Haman for so long? Sandry bit back these unpleasant feelings, determined to handle them on a different day, when she had the luxury and time to do so. Paloma's confession had not been too late, and there was still a glimmer of hope for Briar. That was the only thing that was important right now.

Paloma emerged from behind her hands, and feebly wiped at her eyes until Rosethorn reached over and handed her a handkerchief. "Thank you," she mumbled. "Master Haman… I don't know how he does it, but when he meets a mage, or anyone with magic, he's able to use that magic. He can only use a little bit before it's used up. He was going to frame Pasco for the murder by using Pasco's magic, and I was going to help him by doing the dancing to make the magic look believable. Then we received word that Mage Briar was returning to Winding Circle and Master Haman… he's terribly afraid of the four of you, though he's never said so much. He thought framing Mage Briar would… take care of two problems at once."

"Framing Pasco would have put the harriers in a bad light," Sandry commented thoughtfully. "Whether Master Haman would have considered that an advantage or no I cannot say."

Frostpine looked troubled. "But how can he use someone's own magic without their being aware of it?" Sandry knew that Frostpine had serious issues with anyone using anyone else's magic against their will.

Paloma shrugged. "He didn't tell me everything. I don't know."

Lark stood up. "Paloma has had a very hard day, I think we should leave off asking her anything else for awhile." She looked significantly at Sandry.

Taking Lark's cue, Sandry stood up. "Paloma, you're going to stay at the Citadel for awhile. We're going to do our best to make sure Haman doesn't even know you're here. Pasco's gone to tell Mistress Yazmin. Hopefully, we can give the impression that you are still studying there."

"Meanwhile," said Daja, "I think we should tell Captain Penmic to double Sandry's guard and keep her safe at all costs as well."

Sandry whirled around. "Oh no you don't, Daja Kisubo! I'm a fully credited mage and a Duchess. I think I can handle myself."

Daja grinned her big, white grin. "As you say, Duchess."

Sandry looked at her suspiciously before nodding and turning back to Paloma. "Come on, Paloma. I don't know if you know this, but since Pasco discovered your magic, and Pasco isn't a full mage yet, it means that I'm the one who gets to train you." She sighed. "I suppose now is as good a time as any to learn meditation. It will help calm you down."

"Oh, I already know how. Pasco taught me."

"Did he? Well, that will save some time. I'm assuming you're better at it than he was when he started…"

:-:-:

Creeping about the ship very slowly, Briar eventually made his way towards the main cabin. He could see flickering shadows on the deck floor coming from the cabin's round porthole window, illuminated from within by candlelight.

He suspected that the merchant leaders were having an important meeting of some kind in there. The question was, how was he to get inside?

Briar slipped as discreetly as possible below the window, and slowly edged his eye over the rim till he could just see inside. Inside, he found that the cabin seemed to consist of two rooms- and he could just see the merchants inside the doorway of the second room.

He decided that the owner of this vessel must be most superfluous if he had a ship cabin with two rooms. From what he'd learned from Daja, everything on a ship was supposedly designed to be space-efficient. A large, one-roomed cabin should have been more than sufficient for a captain. Whatever the reason, however, he could see how this circumstance could work to his favor. If he could just make it into the first room, he could find a place to hide and overhear everything fairly well.

Ten minutes' vigilance brought him his opportunity. A sailor bearing a tray laden with foodstuffs for the merchants entered the cabin, using a small key around his neck to enter. Quickly, Briar crept through the shadows till he was beside the door, positioning himself to be behind it when it opened. He only hoped that the sailor wouldn't open it too quickly. Quietly, he pulled out of his pocket his soggy handkerchief and waited.

Soon enough the sailor came out again, and as the door swung shut, Briar stuffed the handkerchief under the stop to keep it from closing all the way. When he could see no sailors nearby, he slipped inside.

The outer room was brightly lit, and the choice of hiding places limited. In the end, he settled for the darkest corner of the room, and only hoped he could remain still and quiet enough to go unnoticed. Already, he was hearing things of great interest.

"She conceded nothing then?"

"Nary a bit. She's as stubborn as the old man was. We're in no better position."

Briar realized that these people must have recently been in talks with Sandry.

"If the Duchess will make no concessions tomorrow, then perhaps the time has become to be somewhat more… militant," said an authoritative voice.

"You mean rioting? If we're too militant it could get us arrested. I'm not in favor of doing anything illegal."

"Sometimes one must push the boundaries to make accomplishments, Chandler. You know that."

Briar took a quick intake of breath. He hadn't thought of the possibility that someone from Tris's family might be here.

"And how would we be any different than her greatness anyway? Some say that she thinks herself above the law."

"What do you mean?"

The man who had spoken lowered his voice, and Briar had to edge closer to the open doorway to hear his words.

"…don't think it was an accident that the Moss boy killed her uncle. Many folks now suspect that he was put up to it by Lady Sandrilene herself."

"That doesn't make any sense to me. Why on earth would she want to do that? By all accounts she was very close to the Duke."

"Come now, Chandler. We're businessmen. Who among us has not had a taste of power and wanted more? I'm no hypocrite that I'm not willing to admit it. Perhaps our illustrious Duchess was getting tired of waiting. She is very close to that Moss boy, and I daresay has him wrapped around her finger. Pretty women are never trustworthy."

A flash of hot anger rippled up Briar's spine. Was that really what people thought? The impressions it gave of both he and Sandry were none too favorable. This man's theory struck Briar as incredibly ludicrous, but to his uneasy and unwelcome surprise, the other gentleman seemed eager to accept the idea.

"You know, if you're right, Dorbin, she would not be allowed to rule any longer."

"But who would take her place if she were disposed? A chaotic, skeleton government would hardly get us any closer to our goals."

"I believe Count Farinte is in line for the Regency," supplied the snooty voice of Dorbin.

"Farinte! Why, he's a sensible man in every sense. Would that he were ruler now. We'd have no trouble establishing the measures we seek."

A cold, icy knot of suspicion was rapidly forming inside Briar. This Dorbin seemed a little too well-informed for his tastes. Granted, successful tradesmen usually were well-informed, but he also seemed to be steering the entire mood of the present group.

As carefully as possible, Briar lowered himself to his stomach, and began elbowing his way to the doorway of the second room. He needed to get a look at some of these speakers. If Daja was right, the head of the merchant guild was in secret cahoots with Haman. Though he didn't know the name of the Guild's head offhand, he was almost willing to bet his shakkaan that this Dorbin was the man.

"This matter merits further investigation," said one of the underlings. As Briar peered with one eye slowly around the doorway, the man leaned in and whispered, "Guilty or no, I for one would not be displeased to see Lady Sandrilene removed from her position. Who wants to be beholden to a girl child anyway?"

The murmur of agreement that rippled through the men made Briar feel even colder. Would they possibly try to accuse Sandry of something she didn't do, just to get her out of the way? But how could they even make a case without evidence of some kind?

_Evidence can be manufactured, as you yourself well know._

"I will look into this matter further," said Dorbin. Briar was not surprised to see the medallion hanging from his neck, marking him as the leader. "I have a feeling my findings will be fruitful. Now, perhaps we should discuss further our plans for tomorrow."

Briar had just made up his mind that now would probably be a good time to get going. Unfortunately for him, however, the option to leave quietly was soon robbed of him.

The door burst open with a loud, resounding crash, causing Briar and all the gentleman in the other room to jump in unison. The sailor with the key stood in the frame, eyes wide with energy. He spotted Briar almost instantly, and pointed. "There he is!"

Briar gulped. He was surrounded.

_Sandry! _


	9. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

by Qwi-Xux

Paloma was very good at meditating. Sandry was impressed. _She's only done this once, with Pasco? I wonder if she ever saw Haman do it. _Part of her couldn't believe she now had Paloma as a student, all because Pasco had discovered her magic. She thought that someone else-Lark, or maybe Daja- would take Paloma as a student, but neither had had a chance to offer. Right now, though, Paloma was her responsibility. One more thing to add to everything she was dealing with right now.

It was precisely because so many things had happened to her in the last few days that she could believe she had another student to teach.

Trying to put this all out of her mind, Sandry took a deep breath and sank into her own meditation. She had just gotten very calm and relaxed- something she had not been able to achieve since her uncle died-when a frantic voice suddenly called in her mind. _Sandry! _

Sandry snapped out of her trance in an instant. _Briar!_ she answered. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Without thinking twice, used their connection to peer out through his eyes and saw a dimly-lit room. Briar was surrounded by people. A sailor stood in the doorway, pointing an accusing finger. Sandry realized almost instantly what had happened. Briar had gone to investigate the merchants, as Daja had said he was going to. And he had been caught. _Oh, Briar,_ Sandry thought at him, terrified and despairing, _Why didn't you stay off of the ship?_

_How would I have learned anything then?_ Briar asked sensibly as the merchants and the sailor began to close in on him. She recognized the head of the merchants from her negotiations with him. _Listen to me, Sandry. The head of the merchants is planning on framing you for your uncle's death. And the merchants were talking about going militant and rioting if you don't 'make concessions.' You have to be ready for it,_ he said urgently.

Still looking through his eyes, Sandry saw knives flash in front of Briar's face, and realized he was holding them. The merchants and the sailor hesitated. _Briar! _What could she do? She had to help! How could she, though? She was stuck in the stupid Citadel and would never reach him before he was killed or captured.

_Stay where you are,_ Briar said, as if sensing her thoughts. _You have enough to deal with. I'll get out of this._

Leave him to these vultures? What kind of friend did he take her for? Struck with an idea, Sandry quickly reached inside herself for the center of her magic. Hurriedly, she grabbed onto it, then magically jumped into the thread linking her to Briar, flowing her magic along it. She saw the city of Summersea pass in a blur under her, and then she was at the harbor, and streaming into a ship. She joined with Briar, who by now had been caught. The merchants were holding him down-but Sandry saw several bloodied arms and faces. Briar's knives had done quite a bit of damage.

Feeling her magic, Briar immediately stopped struggling against his captors. If his body died, while Sandry's mind was in it like this, she might die too. _What are you doing? I told you-_

_Honestly, Briar. Would you have thought I would do anything else?_ Before he could answer, Sandry's magic surged out to surround the merchants and the sailor. As if taking on a life of their own, their clothes tightened, parts of them unraveling and weaving back together. As Sandry worked, Briar's voice cut through her mind.

_Sandry! Stop! You can't do this! _

_I will not leave you to them, _she replied fiercely. _If I do, you will be dead by morning. They won't take you for another trial, Briar. If the mobs who hear about this don't kill you before you reach the jail, then you'll be executed without further ado._ Her next words were filled with emotion. _And I can't deal with that. I won't deal with it. _

By now, everyone around Briar was wrapped tightly in their own clothing, lying on the floor, unable to do much more than squirm. Their mouths were all stifled by cloths wrapped around half of their faces. _Now get out of there!_ Not staying to see if he listened, Sandry pulled her magic away from the scene, flowing back to through Summersea, back to her own body.

Paloma was still in her meditative trance, and Sandry left her there, but she had a rather disturbed look on her face. Sandry guessed that the girl had probably felt Sandry's magic surging, but was so deep in a trance that she hadn't quite known what to make of it. She stood up and paced the protective circle she had put around the two of them so Paloma's magic wouldn't leak out.

Minutes later, Briar's upset mental voice was back. _Sandry-_

_Are you off the ship? _

_Yes. Evvy and I are headed back into hiding. _

Relief flooded Sandry. _Good._

_No, Sandrilene, it's not good!_ Briar intoned. Sandry could sense his mixture of anger and gratefulness. _Look, I know you got me out of that mess, but Sandry, I just told you that you're going to be accused of conspiracy to kill the Duke! And the merchants aren't stupid. Dorbin, the head merchant, is in on this whole thing. How many thread mages are there in Summersea? Not many! How many have a connection to me that the whole world seems to know about? One. And their clothes just wrapped them up like neat little packages. What are they going to say? That they caught me and that a thread-mage-you-helped me get away. _

Sandry's heart sank. In her desperation to save Briar, she hadn't even thought of that. _Oh._

_That is now actual proof they have that you're conspiring with me. They'll call for harrier-mages, and the mages will find your magic there. I still haven't been proven innocent. _

_But we still have Paloma. She knows the truth, _Sandry said with conviction.

_I don't even know what proof she has. No one's told me yet, _Briar reminded her.

Sandry gave him the run-down of what Paloma had said.

_Haman uses the magic of mages he's met? When did I ever meet him before?_ Briar wondered.

_Lark mentioned something, just as I was taking Paloma to meditate. She said she thinks he came to Winding Circle just as you were getting ready to leave on your travels. Tris and Daja had already left. She said things were rather hectic, though. _

Sandry felt the wariness sweep over Briar. _At least if Tris and Daja were gone, he didn't get their magics-but what about yours?_

_I don't know. He might have my magic. I don't know how his magic works. Paloma said he can only use a tiny bit of it before it's used up, though. I think it might be a one-use thing. I think it might be that he can absorb as many magics as he want, but can only use them once. _

_I don't like that. If he has your magic, and he hasn't used it, just think what he could do with it. And who knows what other magics he has. _

_Yes, but he can only use a little bit,_ Sandry reminded him.

_Well, a little bit of my magic went a long way, didn't it?_ Briar asked bitterly.

The memory of what Sandry had seen in her uncle's room the night he had been murdered came back vividly, and she drew her breath sharply. Almost instantly, she sensed Briar's regret. _Sandry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- _

_It's all right. I know what you meant. And you're right. But...well, even...we don't know what kind of control he has. We spent years learning to control our magics and work them. We had to learn the how and the why of our magics. If he can use a bunch of magics, he probably doesn't have the discipline over it that we do. _

Briar was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, _If we suppose he has your magic, why didn't he frame you, then?_ Y_ou said he was planning on framing Pasco in the beginning. Why not just frame you, and then you might be tried and executed? _

_Because he thought I would be murdered with Pasco's magic. He was going to kill two birds with one stone-kill me, and put Pasco in a bad light. Don't you see? He hates ambient magic. He wanted to get rid of as many of us as he could. _

_Can you prove what Paloma says, though_? Briar asked. _I mean, you know it's true, and I know it's true...but do you have actual proof? Because they're not going to take the word of a twelve-year-old girl over that of a respected truthsayer. And Haman is the highest-ranking truthsayer in Emelan. Niko's higher, 'course, but he's not here. _

Sandry especially wished that Niko were here. When Haman supposedly cast his truthsaying spell and had Briar answer questions during his trial, everyone had to take his word that it was the truth. When Niko cast a truthsaying spell, every time someone told a truthful answer, a white light sprang up around them. Different truthsayers had different ways of doing it, but Niko...Niko could prove Haman wrong.

But Niko wasn't here. We're working on that, Sandry told Briar wearily, the tiredness she had been trying to stave off finally sinking in.

Briar must have sensed her exhaustion, because his voice gentled, and he said, _Go to sleep, Sandry. You need it._

_I don't have time. I need to talk with the others and come up with a way to prove you're innocent and that I didn't conspire to kill my uncle. And when I prove that Haman did it..._ Sandry couldn't even begin to describe her struggle to keep from hating Haman. Sandry wasn't the type of person to hate. It just wasn't in her nature. But this man...he had single-handedly managed to turn the merchants against her, murder her uncle, try to murder her, accuse Briar of the death, ruin Paloma's life, and set Emelan on its head.

For any and all of that, he would face justice. And she would do it without hating him. If she hated him, she would be giving into him. She refused to do that.

:-:-:

Briar and Evvy crept through the streets, heading to the nearest Hole. Evvy had been extremely relieved to see him-she had felt something go wrong, but had been unable to do anything. "There were no rocks near you! I couldn't help you at all!" she whispered as they crept through a side alley.

"I wouldn't have wanted you to," Briar said firmly. "We're going to get this sorted out, but until we do, I don't need you to have your name sullied as well as mine."

"You're my teacher," Evvy said stoutly. "I don't care what anyone else thinks of me."

"I do. You're going to be a mage, and a good one."

Evvy flushed and stared at the ground as they walked.

"Anyway, Sandry and the others found a girl who knows Haman, and she said Haman's behind all of this. He's framing me. We just have to figure out a way to prove it before Sandry is taken off of the throne." Seeing her confused look, Briar explained that Haman was going to accuse Sandry of conspiracy. He didn't know when, but he was betting on as soon as possible. If she was said to be guilty, she would be removed from the throne, and according to Briar, some 'long-nosed stuffed-up puppet of a noble will be ruling.'

_Haman,_ Evvy thought angrily_. He's done this to Briar, and Sandry._ She gave Briar a sideways glance. She might only be eleven, but she was very discerning. Living on the streets had taught her how to read people. And Briar...she could especially read him. It hadn't taken her long to realize that he loved Sandry. This stupid truthsayer-ha! Some truthsayer- Haman had hurt Briar in more ways than one. And Sandry-she was the most decent noble Evvy had ever met. She didn't know the thread-mage very well, but she didn't want to see her hurt, either. What if they couldn't find the truth? It wasn't as if Sandry could exactly go confront Haman on this. She was in this too deep.

Evvy was deep in thought the whole way to the Hole. When she and Briar entered, she carefully sat in the corner, comforted by the stone foundation that surrounded her. Their coolness and steadiness helped her clear her mind and think.

Briar sat facing her, his hands wearily pressed into his eyes. Evvy knew he was exhausted, but likely would not sleep.

A plan had formed in Evvy's mind, but it wouldn't work if Briar was awake. Keeping her eyes on him to make sure he didn't look up, she reached into her large tunic pocket, feeling for the bag Lark had made for her. She reached inside and felt around until she sensed what she was looking for. Pulling out a handful of amethyst dust, she blew it over Briar, bringing its potency to life as it settled on him.

As soon as it touched him, he looked up sharply. "Evvy, what-" Those were all the words he got out before his eyes rolled back and he slumped against the rock behind him.

Evvy jumped to her feet. "Sorry, Pahan Briar. It will only last for an hour or so." With a backward glance at him, the small girl exited the Hole.

The streets of Summersea were dark and unfamiliar, but Evvy had lived on the streets for a lot of her life. She knew how to stay invisible to the unsavory people who might be wandering the streets. Fortunately, it was still shortly after sunset, so once she got out of the mire, she ran across people out and about. She ran across harriers on duty, but they paid her no mind. Not many people knew Briar Moss had a student, and if they did, they had no idea what she looked like.

It wasn't hard to find her way uptown. She just followed the main road toward the Duke's-well, now the Duchess'-Citadel. She stopped when she saw an upperclassman helping his wife into a carriage. "Excuse me," she said as politely as she could, "but I wondered if you could help me?"

The man looked at her distastefully, and the woman raised her eyebrows. She knew she looked pretty bad. She had been stuck in a Hole in the ground all day, and she was covered in dust, dirt, and grime.

"What is it, child?" the woman asked.

"I'm looking for my father's friend. My father died and I have been sent here to live with him. His name is Haman, and he's a truthsayer. He lives in Summersea." Evvy crossed her fingers behind her back that they wouldn't call her bluff.

The man's eyebrows rose now, and the woman frowned. "Haman? But he-"

_He's a noble,_ Evvy thought, _and right now, I look like street rat._

"Please excuse my appearance," she said, with as much nobility as she could muster. "I just got in on a ship, and we ran into quite a few problems." She racked her brain to think of the problems that could have happened. "My escort abandoned me-they said there were too many problems with nobility in Summersea right now. And I'm afraid I tripped on the way here and..." She waved her hand to take in her dirty clothes. _They'll be really thick if they actually believe me, she_ thought despairingly.

Now the man looked skeptical, but the woman was sympathetic. "Oh, you poor thing! Servants nowaday, honestly! Please, come here, we'll give you a ride to Haman's house. He lives just around the corner, on Namin Street."

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary. I don't want to dirty your carriage." No, the truth was that she couldn't show up at Haman's residence in a carriage! She would give herself away! Haman was certainly not expecting her.

"Nonsense. Beren, help the child into the carriage."

There was no way out of this except to do something Evvy did best-she turned and ran.

:-:-:

Sandry related the necessary details of her conversation with Briar to Lark, Frostpine, Rosethorn, and Daja. Paloma was upstairs in a room Sandry had supplied. She stared at them, daring them to tell her she had been wrong.

None of them said anything, they just exchanged glances, and Lark sighed and rubbed her eyes. "What are we going to do to bring Haman down? We could accuse him before he accuses you, Sandry, and get another truthsayer..."

Sandry was shaking her head. "Haman of Lightsbridge is the only truthsayer in the city right now. I don't know if it was something he planned, but I'm beginning to believe it is. Normally, there are three other truthsayers in Summersea. Captain Penmic was the one who suggested Haman the night my uncle was murdered, and it was that night that I also learned all of the other truthsayers were on travels."

Daja straightened. "Captain Penmic suggested Haman?"

Sandry frowned at her, puzzled. "Yes, why?" She remembered the morning after Briar's escape, when Penmic had told her of it, Penmic and Daja had exchanged glances, but she really had no idea what Penmic had to do with any of this.

"Nothing, _saati,"_ Daja said, but she still looked like she was thinking about something.

Sandry chose to ignore it for the time being. Daja would tell her if she needed to know, and she already had too much on her mind right now.

"Without a truthsayer, I could accuse Haman, but he would say I was the one conspiring. Then the merchants would come forward and say they captured Briar, but he escaped. The harrier-mages will be called, and find my magic on the ship." If she hadn't rescued Briar, she might have been able to accuse Haman, but as it was... "That's not going to work. Rosethorn, are you going with the harrier mages to the grain fields tomorrow morning?"

Looking very frustrated, Rosethorn nodded. "Yes," she said irritably. "They, at least, will be able to identify that Briar was there the night of the murder."

"Then we'll just have to wait for the harriers to have proof he was there, and that should prove his innocence, right?"

"If the harrier-mages are able to tell that he was there during the Duke's murder. And if they're worth anything, they'll be able to tell," Rosethorn replied.

Sandry nodded, not letting anyone see how nervous she was about the whole ordeal. "All right, then. We'll just have to wait for the harriers to have proof, and then I'll accuse Haman. Whether he's accused me already or not, we'll prove he's behind this, and any charges against Briar-or me-will be cleared."

A sudden scream in the distance made all of them spin their heads toward the door. "What was that?" Lark asked, on her feet.

"Paloma. It came from upstairs," Sandry said worriedly, running toward the door. She opened it, and saw Paloma running down the stairs. "Lady Sandry! You-I-it-"

"Calm down, Paloma," Sandry said soothingly. "What's wrong?"

"I did it...I don't know how!" Paloma wailed despairingly.

The careful hold Sandry had kept on her patience was wearing thin. "You did what?"

"I don't know how to explain!"

"Show me, then." Motioning for the others to wait behind, Sandry followed Paloma up the stairs. She stepped into Paloma's guest room right behind the girl, and froze. The quilt on the bed was in tatters-no, that wasn't right. Half of it looked like it had all come unsewn and unwound, and the other half was still sewn as it was supposed to be.

"You did this?" Sandry wondered.

"I don't know how!" Paloma repeated.

"This is thread magic," Sandry said as she walked toward the bed. "And..." Her eyes widened as she felt the magic. She looked at Paloma, baffled and grim. "It's my magic."

:-:-:

When Sandry disappeared upstairs with Paloma, a messenger entered the room. "Dedicates Frostpine, Lark, and Rosethorn, your presence is requested by Honored Moonstream at Winding Circle."

The three Dedicates stood up. "Knowing Moonstream, she's probably learned something of this. Or maybe she wants to know how everything is progressing. We'd best go. You'll tell Sandry?" Lark asked Daja.

Daja nodded. The three Dedicates left. While everyone was gone or distracted, Daja took this time to seek out Penmic -quickly. It was easy enough to find him, as he was captain of Sandry's personal guard. When Daja located him, she said, "Might I have a word, Captain?"

Penmic turned. "Of course."

Daja went straight to the point. "You told me to investigate a case Haman handled two years ago-which I have not had time to do, but intend to do tonight. Yet you were the one who recommended Haman as a truthsayer. Why would you recommend him if you are suspicious of him? Unless..." She left the sentence unfinished.

A small smile crossed Penmic's face. "I assure you, I am not part of any foul play on Haman's part." The smile disappeared, and he sighed. "I wish I could tell you in depth right now, but I'm afraid I can't. I cannot speak of it now, but soon, I will explain everything. Trust me." He looked deeply into her eyes. "I would never hurt Duchess Sandrilene."

Daja wasn't sure if she should believe him. He seemed like a trustworthy person. Even so, she would be keeping an eye on him.

_Daja? I need to talk to you. I mind-spoke with Lark, and she said Frostpine says you have something that can show peoples' magic?_ Sandry mind-called.

"I'll talk to you later," Daja assured Penmic, giving her best stare. "Right now, I have business to attend to."

:-:-:

"What is it?" Paloma asked nervously, looking around the group in the sitting room.

Sandry was turning a mirror over in her hands. "You made this with your living metal," she said, nodding at Daja's hand.

Paloma noticed Daja's hand for the first time, and gasped. Brass covered parts of it, running between the smith-mage's fingers.

Daja took the mirror out of Sandry's hands. "I used it determine the magics of my two students," she explained. "And now, we're going to look in it and see if we can figure out what yours is doing." She set it on the middle of the table in the room. "Come look into it," she told Paloma.

Paloma nervously crept forward. She stepped in front of the table and peered down at the mirror, gulping in anxiety. What would they see? Why did she keep showing all these different magics?

Sandry and Daja looked over her shoulder. Paloma watched as a flash of fire shot up in the mirror, then a flash of dancing, and a flash of a quilt unweaving...but then all she saw were colors and shapes. She couldn't quite make out anything in particular.

Daja and Sandry pulled away. "How strange-but something of what I expected," Sandry said. The same things played over and over again: fire, dancing, quilt...

"Paloma," Sandry asked, "When you danced earlier-what were you doing just before that?"

"Meditating with Pasco," Paloma replied.

"That's what I thought," Sandry said absent-mindedly. "Paloma, do you ever remember exhibiting any kind of fire magic?"

"No," Paloma shook her head.

"Paloma, if you don't mind, I'd like to do a spinning of your magic-I'd like to examine it, to see what's going on with it," Sandry said.

Paloma had no idea what this meant. She was scared. She wasn't even sure she could trust these people, but she thought that if she couldn't trust Haman, she might just be able to trust those he said were enemies. She felt like crying. "Um...all right."

"We'll do that tonight. I think I might know what's going on with you. Why don't you go up to your room, and I'll be there in a minute."

:-:-:

Once Evvy was on Naman Street, it wasn't hard to find Haman's house. The base of all these houses were built with rocks, and stones lined the steps to the houses. She just used her magic to listen to the rocks. They knew who tread on them all the time.

As soon as Haman's house was identified, Evvy crept slowly up to the front gate. All of the windows on the house were unlit. It appeared that no one was home, but Evvy, of all people, knew that appearances could be deceiving.

She crept up the walk, then around the side of the house. There was a low window toward the back. She walked up to it and stopped, crouching on the ground. She pulled a handful of azurite crystals out of her pouch and set them around the window. This was a spell that she and Briar had devised on their way back to Emelan. It was just the type of practical thing that Briar would teach.

Calling her magic to the stones, Evvy watched as a soft red light surrounded the window. Just as she had suspected, Haman had a really good spell keeping anyone from breaking in.

A small grin crept over her face. Anyone but a stone mage taught magic by Briar Moss. Evvy pulled out a crystal point and placed it on two of the azurite crystals. Calling her magic into it, she pressed it against the anti-thieving spell. With a quick flash, the red light was pulled into the stones. Evvy tucked her stones back into her pouch, then pushed against the window.

It opened smoothly, and Evvy choked back a laugh. Wasn't it typical of a noble to employ an anti-thieving spell, but to forget to lock the window?

Evvy slipped through the window as quietly as one of her cats. She seemed to be in a guest bedroom. Treading softly, she made her way to the door and opened it slowly, peeking out. There was a hallway here, and in a room across the hall, a faint light glowed. _That room must be at the back of the house, since I didn't see any light coming through the windows in front or on the sides of the house,_ Evvy thought. She quietly stepped out into the hallway and looked around. The front door was off to the side. There had to be somewhere in here that was Haman's private study...probably where he conducted business.

Creeping down the hallway, Evvy stopped when she saw the door directly facing the front door. It was ornately decorated, and had several magical symbols on it. _And that would be it_. Evvy thought with satisfaction.

It was harder to break the spells on the door, but Briar had taught her well. Haman had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Framing a great mage who had once been a thief was a dangerous business, especially when that great mage had a former street rat student who didn't like nobles that messed in decent people's business. It took less than a minute before Evvy was inside Haman's private office with the door shut behind her. It was dark. Evvy traded the stones that had allowed her to break the magic to get into the office for a crystal that burned brightly.

She walked along the walls and frowned. There was information about Briar and his friends all over. In fact, if Evvy didn't know any better, she would say Haman was obsessed.

Turning her eyes away from the walls, Evvy focused on the desk. There were neat stacks of paper in one corner. She stepped over to the desk and rifled through the papers. Her eyes lit on the contents of one of the pieces of paper, and she grinned in triumph. This was it! She skimmed the paper, then quickly tucked it into her pouch. It was time to get out of here.

Evvy retraced her steps out of the office, and released the magic of the anti-thieving spells that had been called into her stones. The magic flowed back in place on the door. She entered the guest bedroom, closed the door, and went to the still-open window. She pulled herself through it, then released the red light of the magic back to the window. Satisfied that everything was as it had been, Evvy turned and snuck back out off of Haman's property.

She had to get this directly to Sandry.

:-:-:

Daja wanted to go to the Summersea Hall of Public Records, but it was sure to be closed, as it was already after midnight. "I'll have to wait until morning," she sighed.

Sandry was just about to go upstairs to talk to Paloma when Captain Penmic himself approached her. "Your Eminence, the young girl who arrived with Dedicate Frostpine and Mage Daja has returned, and is requesting to see you. She is in the front hall."

Sandry frowned. The girl-oh! Evvy! "Of course." She turned and headed for the hall. Sure enough, Evvy stood there, looking very dirty. If Sandry hadn't been so tired, she would have laughed. Evvy had been here for perhaps five minutes and the little black cat, Moss, who had been freely wandering the Citadel, had already found her.

"Pahan Sandry!" Evvy cried, standing up from the stoop she had been in to pet Moss. "I have to give you this!" She ran forward, pulling a parchment out of the pouch that Lark had made for her.

Sandry took the parchment that was being shoved in her face, then looked at Evvy. "Evvy, what are you doing here? Where's Briar?" She hadn't heard anything from Briar about Evvy coming to see her. She hadn't heard anything from Briar at all.

Evvy looked at the ground sheepishly. "Umm..."

Sandry blinked. "Evvy, where is Briar?"

"He's safe! I promise! He's...sleeping."

"Sleeping." Sandry narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Well, I, um..."

Sandry groaned. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. "I don't think I was this bad when I was a student. I didn't go around putting my teachers into magical sleeps," she muttered, sure this was what Evvy had done. "He's going to be very upset with you," she told Evvy sternly.

Evvy looked like she didn't know whether to look embarrassed or excited. "Not once he sees this!" She jabbed her finger toward the paper in Sandry's hand, and settled for looking quite pleased with herself.

Sandry finally took the time to look down at the parchment, and her eyes widened. "Evvy," she breathed. "Where did you get this?"

"Umm..."

"Right, I probably shouldn't ask," Sandry sighed. "Come in. You're staying here tonight."

"But I have to get back to Briar!" Evvy protested.

"Oh, no, you don't. I'm not letting you wander around Summersea at this hour. You're going to come get bathed, have something to eat, and sleep here, and I'll tell Briar where you are. As soon as he wakes up," she said pointedly.

Evvy had the grace to look embarrassed. "All right," she said grumpily, scooping up Moss.

"You can stay in the room that you were given when you first arrived. Not that you stayed in it at all," Sandry said. "If you remember where it is, I'll have someone fetch a bath for you."

"I remember."

"Good. You go up and I'll be there in a little while."

Evvy disappeared, and Sandry found a maid and asked her to get Evvy a bath. _Daja? _

_Yes? _

_I need a favor. There's a paper here that needs investigating. _

Sandry felt Daja's confusion, but the Trader replied, _Certainly. I'll be right there. _

Daja found Sandry within moments. Sandry passed her the parchment Evvy had brought. Daja's eyes widened when she saw it, and she said, "Honored Moonstream should see this. Tonight." She hesitated. "I should be back by morning to go to the Hall of Public Records. I'm going to get my horse and go to Winding Circle. You can manage here?"

"Of course."

Daja quickly left the Citadel, and Sandry had just turned to head upstairs when a voice interrupted her. "Duchess."

Sandry tried to keep from rolling her eyes and turned again. One of the castle scribes stood at the foot of the stairs, looking nervous. "Yes?" she asked with exaggerated patience.

"I need your signature on these papers, Your Eminence."

Sandry took a deep breath, counting to seven, and told herself that she was not going to lose it. She thought that for the scribe to bother her so late into the night-or rather, early morning-he must have been trying to get a chance to speak with her all day. "Please put them on my desk in my study. I'll sign them first thing in the morning."

"Yes, Your Eminence."

As soon as she had turned around and taken two steps up the stairs, another voice said, "Sandry-"

"What?" she snapped, half-turned before she realized who had said her name. "Oh. Pasco," she said tiredly. "I didn't expect you back tonight. You spoke with Yazmin?"

"She said if anyone comes asking about Paloma, she'll pretend Paloma's still there, and any other instructors will do the same. I also tried to tell her that Briar is innocent, but she's too intent on her grief right now to think about it."

"Thank you, Pasco. You look like you could use something to eat."

The boy nodded. "I'm hungry."

"Good. The servants are setting up dinner for another student we have here- the rest of us already ate. If you wait a few minutes, they'll have it all ready and you can eat."

Sandry finally made it up the stairs without distraction. She stopped by her room and grabbed a basket full of colored thread, then headed for Paloma's room. She knocked on the door before entering. She found the girl sitting, knees tight against her chest, in the window seat. She looked nervously at Sandry. "This...weaving thing you're going to do...will it hurt?"

"No," Sandry managed a smile at the girl. She sat down beside Paloma and set her basket of thread between them. "What I'm going to do is attach a bit of your magic to this thread, and do a very quick magical weaving to show when your power first manifested, if I can. You just need to sit there."

Concentrating, Sandry did just that. She reached inside of Paloma for the illusive magic that flitted here and there. It was hard to grab a hold of, but she finally managed to catch a bit of it and pull it to her thread. Then she simply commanded the thread to weave itself.

Paloma watched in awe as the thread jumped up, floating in the air, and began weaving in and out, working its way together. It was about halfway finished when Sandry was startled by Briar's mental voice. _Sandry? I just woke up and Evvy...I traced her magic close to you... _

_She's here, _Sandry quickly told him.

_She has some explaining to do,_ Briar thought, half-cross and half- exasperated.

_She's staying here for tonight. You just take care of yourself,_ Sandry said.

Briar withdrew from her mind, and Sandry continued her work. Within a very short time, a picture began forming...then a bit more of it. After about twenty minutes, the thread stopped moving. Sandry released Paloma's magic and let it flow back into the girl, to disappear once more.

"Well," Sandry remarked, looking at the weaving. "That explains the fire in the mirror." She touched the image of a little girl peering into what appeared to be a bakery. The image inside the bakery showed a man with fire coming out of his hands. The next picture on the weaving showed fire shooting between the furnace in the bakery and the little girl.

"It appears," Sandry remarked, "that when you were a little girl, you saw some kind of fire mage do something, and then you were able to use fire magic. The same thing seemed to happen with Pasco, and then with me. It seems to me that you can use other mage's magics."

"But...but...that's Master-I mean, that's Haman's magic," Paloma said timidly.

"Yes," Sandry said darkly. "And I think I might have the answer for that. I need to speak with Frostpine. Are you hungry?"

Paloma shook her head.

"All right. You try to get some rest, all right?" Patting the girl on the arm, Sandry stood and went to find Evvy.

Evvy and Pasco weren't quite sure what to think of each other, so they both busied themselves with eating. Sandry made sure they were settled, then headed for the sitting room so she could have somewhere quiet to sit and think for a few minutes.

She was nearly there when she heard voices and footsteps heading from the entrance of the Citadel. A loud, angry voice said, "You cannot do this!"

The sounds of scuffling, and a loud "oomph!" reached Sandry's ears.

_Penmic__,_ Sandry thought worriedly. She turned and headed toward the noise. She stopped dead in the front entry, not quite believing what was happening. Captain Penmic and the rest of her personal guard were keeping Haman himself, and a bunch of harrier-mages, at bay. A thought of Paloma flashed through her mind, and she hoped the girl did stay in her room.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sandry demanded, though she thought she already knew. She hadn't expected it in the middle of the night, though!

"We just received a report from the head of the merchants. Apparently, his ship was boarded by our escaped assassin, and apparently, you helped him avoid capture on the ship," Haman announced, looking down his long nose at her. "The harriers have already identified your magic. The harriers of this city know your magic well, Your Eminence." Haman spat the word like it was dirty. "You are officially being accused of aiding and abetting an escaped felon, and furthermore, with conspiracy to kill Duke Vedris IV of Emelan."

This was what Briar had said to expect, but it still stung. How could anyone think she would help kill her own uncle, especially after she had worked so hard to help and protect him, to keep him in good health? She lifted her chin. "I did not conspire to kill my uncle."

"Yet you do not deny that you helped Briar Moss escape the merchant ship," Haman stated.

Sandry said nothing. She couldn't help but wonder if, even now, Haman was learning her magic somehow, so he could imitate it. The thought made her feel dirty, and she pulled her magic around her like a blanket.

"This is nonsense," Penmic snapped. "You will-"

"We will take Duchess Sandrilene fa Toren to be held in a safe place until we can hold a trial tomorrow," Haman cut in.

_Yes, a trial as rushed and false as Briar's_, Sandry thought bitterly.

There was nothing anyone could do as Sandry was taken away. Pasco, Evvy, and Paloma didn't even have time to realize she was being taken. She wasn't even to be held in the Citadel. Haman and his guard put her in a carriage and took her to the cells attached to the court building, which was a block away from the Citadel. Sandry guessed this was because Haman wanted her close by, but not actually in the Citadel. She was glad it was the middle of the night, so that the citizens of Summersea were mostly at home, and didn't witness this. It was all very undignified and very rushed, and Sandry guessed that Haman meant it to be.

The harrier-mages led her underneath the court building and opened a door. "This will keep you from using your magic to escape," one of the harrier- mages told Sandry, prodding her forward.

Sandry stood, frozen, staring into the cell. It was underground, and furthermore, there were no lights inside. No windows. No bars on the cell door. If she went in there, she would be in utter blackness. She had gotten over much of her fear of the dark, and she didn't have to use her light- crystal anymore, but being in a small cell in complete darkness, with no access to her magic...no, no, no. She couldn't. She couldn't!

In her terror, she reached for the only two people she could reach for. Daja was too far away to help...she was on her way to Winding Circle. Briar...

Too afraid to think clearly, Sandry reached for Briar and magically clung to him like a lifeline.

_Sandry?_ Briar thought, startled at her presence.

"Don't let them put me in there I don't want to go not in the dark!" Sandry babbled, not sure if she was speaking aloud, or to Briar, or both. She felt Briar move to look through her eyes, and then the harrier-mages had shoved her through the door. Her magic cut off in an instant, and when the door slammed shut, she was in inky blackness. "No, no, no!" she screamed, beating against the door, panic overwhelming her. At this moment, she felt very unlike a duchess or a great mage, and very much like a terrified little girl. Weeping, she slid down against the door and rocked back and forth. "Please...please, not the dark," she whispered.

No one could help her. She was all alone.


	10. Chapter Nine

Here's the next chapter! Thanks for your patience! Sache worked really hard on this one!

:-:-:

CHAPTER NINE

by Sache8

It took serious effort on Haman's part to keep a triumphant smile off his features. On the outside he must be as sober and grieved as the people, but inside he felt anything but grieved. Everything had fallen out according to plan, and even better than he could possibly have devised, in many ways. Lady Sandrilene's little ploy with the merchants on board the ship had played directly into his hands. The Moss boy would not be able to roam the city freely for long, and now he, Haman, had control of the Citadel.

"My lord."

Haman looked away from the exquisite tapestry he'd been admiring, to find a somewhat dazed-looking servant standing timidly in the doorway.

"Yes, what is it?" Haman asked, trying to keep his voice from snapping. With his own servants he usually practiced little patience, but it would not do to alienate the people of the Citadel in this critical junction.

"His Lordship the Count Farinte sends this message," the servant said, and extended a small plate with a folded note, which he presented with a slight bow.

Walking briskly, Haman reached the servant and took the note with little ceremony. "Thank you," he said. "You may leave."

"My lord," the servant agreed. He bowed again, and left the room.

The note was short and hastily written. It said simply that Count Farinte had received Haman's news. He expressed his shock and grief, but that he would nonetheless be prepared to take up the mantle of rulership, and that he should be expected to arrive at the Citadel shortly after dawn.

Haman glanced out the large window nearby. The position of the moon confirmed what Haman already knew. Dawn was only a few hours away. This night's events had already carried them well past midnight, and he doubted that he, or anyone else involved, would bother getting any sleep.

As it was, he had little time to make appropriate preparations before Farinte arrived. While the Count's position and pliable personality worked well for Haman's purpose, the man was nonetheless a weak-hearted fool, who would easily take the Lady Sandrilene's part if he was not completely duped by Haman's carefully cultivated lies over the years. Haman must ensure that he could continue to control his puppet as he pleased here in the Citadel. That was, after all, an integral part of the plan.

With these thoughts in mind, he wandered slowly towards the living quarters, taking time to admire the grandeur of his new domain as he went, and taking a few moments just to enjoy his sense of overall satisfaction. Things were going very, very well.

"Master Haman of Lightsbridge is well this evening?" came a voice from a darkened corner of the corridor. Haman paused. He had not heard that voice in several months, but he knew it well.

Not bothering to turn and search for the voice's owner, he stopped. "I am well, Anise. And you? How do you fare?"

"More than just well," said the smooth voice again. It sounded closer, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a slight figure emerge from the nearby shadows. He turned his head slightly, and watched as Anise Gregalier pushed her deep hood back, revealing her pale, beautiful features, and cold, dark eyes. "It seems that tonight the Council of Lightsbridge has achieved a great victory. My congratulations, Haman. You have done very well for yourself."

"I wonder if I should even bother asking how you arrived here so quickly," Haman asked blandly. "Or how it is you came to be inside the Citadel unnoticed." He turned and resumed his trek towards the eastern wing, and she fell into step beside him.

"Much the same as you came to be here the night you murdered His Grace, I imagine," Anise pointed out smugly.

"Please, Anise, take no trouble to be subtle on my behalf," Haman muttered sarcastically, throwing a quick glance around the deserted hallway, confirming that it was, indeed, deserted.

"Oh, relax. No one heard me."

"I wonder why you could not have congratulated me from Lightsbridge."

"Well, I was already here, you see. It was most convenient. I came to offer my assistance, in whatever capacity you deem worthy."

Haman made an effort to not scowl. He should have anticipated something like this. All traces of his good mood were rapidly evaporating. If Anise had been hiding in Summersea, who knew who else was here, waiting and watching his every mood like a vulture, waiting for the opportunity to grab an early slice of the pie.

The Council of Lightsbridge, as it called itself, was a very loose, but very secret, organization of mages who held mutual beliefs about the propriety of magic. Who should practice it, who should control it, who should teach it, and what should and should not be allowed. Ambient mages were at the top of those things that should not be allowed. Ambient magic was unnatural and illogical. Wild and unpredictable, Haman shuddered to think of the state of things if too many of these creatures were trained up and set loose on the world.

However, the problem with the members of the Council was that while these mutual beliefs formed a loose loyalty for their cause, the loyalty was tenuous at best, and often was placed head to head with the ambitions of certain individual methods.

Anise Gregalier was one of the most ambitious. She craved power, almost as much as Haman did, and she played the game flawlessly. He would be within his rights to turn her away just now, but it would be dangerous to incite her in any way. Not only that, but her skills with magic were no laughing matter. Better he kept her where he could see her, for the moment.

"There is nothing I require, for the moment," Haman finally said. "But I welcome your help in the future, if it should prove necessary."

The corners of Anise's perfect mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, betraying a smugness on her part that sickened Haman. Yes, no doubt she wanted a very large slice of the pie indeed. He very much wished her away from here, but there wasn't anything to be done about it now.

Instead, he focused his mind on the task at hand. He needed to choose quarters for himself and for the count. Even the sleeping arrangements must work smoothly to his advantage. He wanted his regent kept close, so that he would have easy access to him at all times.

Haman had not seen these areas of the Citadel before, so he began opening and closing doors, using a glass medallion to shine light into the far corners of the lesser used rooms, those that were not currently in use. The medallion was part of his mage kit, wherein he kept a few odd assortments of handy spells at the ready, to call upon at short notice when the need arose.

Lady Sandrilene had been keeping an inordinate amount of guests, however, so many of the rooms were clearly in current service. He found one he thought would do well for Farinte, and eagerly moved to the next door down the hall, hoping it would suit his own purposes.

The sight that met his eyes drove all thoughts of room inspections completely from his thoughts. Three children sat in the middle of the great bed, in deep, murmured discussion. They looked up at the sound of the opening door, and everyone froze. The first child was a small, scrappy girl whom Haman did not recognize. The second was the Acalon boy, whom Haman had met once before, though he doubted the boy remembered.

The third was Paloma.

Paloma had never been good at hiding her emotions, and Haman of Lightsbridge was no fool. In an instant, the shock, fear, and horror in her eyes told him all he needed to know. He had been betrayed, though he could not imagine exactly how.

For now, though, the reasons for her betrayal were not so important as the fact itself. What damage had she caused? He tried to quell his rising anger. Now was not the time for rash, thoughtless behavior.

"Master Haman," Paloma whispered, finally breaking the spell. Her voice cracked a little, and he was pleased, at least, to note that he still had some affect on her.

Upon hearing Paloma's identification, the small, scrappy girl leapt off the bed and made a mad dash for the room's other door, scampering and dodging with well-honed agility. "After her," Haman said to Anise, who nodded knowingly, and almost casually took up pursuit in the girl's wake.

Even as he spoke, Haman pulled a little-used spell out of his medallion and threw it skillfully at the remaining two children. The spells effects were twofold. It muffled their magic temporarily, and it trapped them in magical bonds that had the effect of a column of tightly wound rope all the way up their body. Their hands were pressed to their sides and their feet were pressed together, and Haman added a freezing spell to the melee to keep them from falling flat on their faces.

He stepped slowly in front of his former charge, eyeing her up and down, still mystified at exactly how she'd come to be here. She must have stumbled onto the truth somehow by accident. She'd never been particularly bright. "I'm disappointed in you, my dear," he said at last.

Before Paloma had a chance to make any sort of reply, she was cut off by a sputtering bout of indignation on the part of her companion. "How dare you say that to her?" Acalon snapped. His voice was almost a growl. "You have no right!"

Haman favored the boy with a look of mild condescension. "You're hardly in any position to be criticizing me, boy," he pointed out. He turned his attention back to Paloma, and was surprised to find that the fear in her eyes had inexplicably been overshadowed with anger.

"You lied to me," she whispered softly. "All my life, you've lied to me. I trusted you. I admired you. But not anymore. I thought you loved me."

Haman hesitated. He could honestly say he'd never really loved anyone at all. But he had carried an affection of sorts for Paloma, much as he would a pet. It hurt to see her looking at him like that. But this regret was small and meaningless in the bigger picture. Paloma's real value was the utility of her magic. For that reason, he could not harm her.

"That was your assumption, child," he finally said. "I never said those words." The anger and pain in her eyes only intensified, but she said nothing.

They were all distracted by the reappearance of Anise, dragging the scraggly child behind her, who was now bound with magic in a manner similar to the other children, with the exception that she was also magically gagged. By the flashes of angry defiance in her dark eyes, Haman decided that the gag was a well-advised precaution.

"It turns out I shall require your assistance after all, Anise," he said matter-of-factly. "I need these three kept under the tightest guard. Don't underestimate them. They're ambient mages-at least Paloma and this child is." He waved at Pasco. "Keep them quiet and out of sight. There are special magic-blocking cells downstairs that you can put to good use."

Anise regarded the captive three with a roving eye of disgust. "With pleasure," she said.

:-:-:

Briar's fear held him momentarily paralyzed. Sandry's cry had been so sudden, so desperate, and so fearful, that the only natural reaction was for him to share that fear.

For nearly five years, Sandry had been their mainstay. She was the anchor, the foundation upon which all the four of them had begun. It had been she who had made friends with Daja when no one else would. It was she who had refused to be put off by Briar's surliness. It was she who had likewise refused to let Tris continue believing no one could truly care about her. There was hardly anything in the world that frightened Sandrilene fa Toren.

Except this. Haman had locked her in the dark. Was it coincidence? Or was it possible he had somehow unearthed the secret of her deepest fear? Briar would not put it past him. But it hardly mattered. The fact of the matter was that Haman had hurt her, and badly.

This thought turned Briar's fears into a seething anger. His fists clenched at his sides, and his vision swam before his eyes. The emotions running through him were at the highest of peaks. Anger, panic, and most of all pure, unadulterated fear. He could think of nothing else. He was aware of nothing else. Sandry was in trouble. He didn't know where she was. He didn't know if she was hurt or even alive. Just the thought of losing her made his stomach clench with inconsolable pain.

He no longer had any care for his own safety. He no longer seemed to care about anything except getting to her. His thoughts were only Sandry. He must find her, and soon- get her out of there. She was so strong in so many ways, and yet at times so fragile. He would have saved her from every evil in the world, had he been able, but he could at least safe her from the demons of her own mind.

He fled his hiding place, no longer caring for discretion. There was little time.

:-:-:

Despite the late hour, it had not taken long for Daja to obtain an audience with Honored Moonstream, nor to assemble those leaders of the temple to whom her news might also be of interest. These included Rosethorn, Lark, and Frostpine, as well as Dedicate Skyfire of the Fire Temple, Dedicate Crane of the Earth Temple, and Dedicate Prism of the Water Temple, a recent inductee whom Daja had never previously met. They were all gathered in Honored Moonstream's sitting room, and both Moonstream and Crane were in their sleeping attire, which Daja found decidedly odd.

When everyone's attention was at last focused solely on her, Daja pulled out the paper she'd been carefully guarding inside her belt pouch. "Thank you for responding to my message so promptly," she told the dedicates. "As you will see," she continued, passing the paper to Dedicate Skyfire, who was closest, "this letter contains details of a collaboration between Truthsayer Haman and Fester Dorbin, head of the merchant's guild. The letter outlines a plan, effective tonight, in which the merchant ships will besiege Summersea harbor with military force." She took a deep breath. "We also have a witness with evidence that it was Master Haman who was responsible for the death of His Eminence."

Moonstream nodded knowingly as the letter was passed to her. "Yes, Dedicates Rosethorn, Frostpine, and Lark have already informed us of this, though, as of this evening, we had not yet decided how to proceed." As she spoke, her eyes scanned the page in her hand, and widened in mild shock at its cold and callous comments. "This is appalling," was all she was able to say, before passing the letter on to Lark.

"The question is, what is the temple going to do about it?" Skyfire asked. "We must mobilize immediately. Repel these merchant ships the way we repelled the pirates all those years ago."

"Undoubtedly we have the power to do just that," Rosethorn pointed out, "but those ships are full of food and medicine which I'm sure Sandry would prefer not to see at the bottom of the harbor, if we can avoid it."

"Is there perhaps no peaceful means to settle this?" Prism asked hesitantly.

The debate continued, but Daja heard no more of it, for she was suddenly overcome with a wave of fear and despair from Sandry. Closing her eyes, Daja speedily felt along their mutual connection, trying to figure out what was troubling her friend.

She became immediately more alarmed when her attempts to communicate with Sandry went unheeded.

_Sandry!_ she called frantically, her mild panic increasing. _Sandry! _

Then, inexplicably, her connection to Sandry was cut short, and she could feel her no more.

"No!" she cried. Her eyes flew open, and she banged her hand on the nearby table, putting an instant halt to the conversation going on around her.

"What's wrong, child?" Crane asked her irritably, and Daja tried to quell her annoyance. At seventeen, she'd hoped that people would stop considering her a child at last, but she knew Crane's personality too well to consider it a personal insult. He was just that dismissive.

"Something's wrong with Sandry," Daja whispered, closing her eyes yet again. "She-"

Any further explanation was forestalled by another wave of powerful emotions, this time roiling off Briar.

_Briar!_ she called to him, sending as much urgency across the bond as she could possibly muster. _Briar, what happened? _

_She's gone,_ he snapped back. _That piece of scum Haman put her in the dark. I don't think she's dead, I think her magic's been cut off. _

The pieces clicked into place. If Sandry had been locked away in the dark, it explained both her desperate, manic fear from a few moments before, as well as the intensity of the red-hot anger now emanating from Briar. Daja could well sympathize. The idea made her angry too.

_I'm going after her,_ Briar informed her, in a tone that barred any argument.

_Don't be rash, Briar. Wait for someone to come and help you. I can be in the city in less than an hour. Please! _

A wave of fierce resentment came rolling down the bond and hit her almost as if she'd been struck. She stepped back in shock. This was not like Briar at all. She understood all his feelings, but not their overpowering strength.

_I'm going after her,_ he repeated stubbornly. Then he cut her off.

Daja opened her eyes, and the room around her snapped back into focus, along with the seven concerned faces of her peers.

"According to Briar," she said, and took a deep breath, "Haman has taken Sandry from the Citadel. My guess is he found some means to accuse and arrest her."

"And why are you so pale?" Frostpine asked her, his tone gently questioning.

"Sandry has been cut off from her magic," Daja said quietly. "They locked her away in the dark."

There was a sudden, soft gasp, and Rosethorn reached out a hand to restrain Lark from rushing out the door. "Wait," Rosethorn told her friend, not unkindly.

"Briar is already on his way to try and help her," Daja informed them. "But I'm worried about him. He's angry. Very angry. Angrier than I've seen him in a long, long time. I'm afraid it will cloud his judgment. He was even short with me," she added, allowing her hurt to creep ever-so-slightly into her voice.

To her surprise, Rosethorn actually smiled, though her eyes were sad. "Don't take it personally, Daja. You know Briar better than that."

"But Rosethorn," Daja implored, "I don't understand why he was so afraid. Or why he's letting it overtake him. He has more street smarts than any of us. He should know better."

"Because Sandry is in terrible danger," Lark said quietly. She looked up and met Daja's eyes. "He's in love with her, hadn't you noticed?"

Daja blinked. "What?" she repeated, incredulously.

"They came later, remember?" Rosethorn pointed out, her gaze taking in both Daja and Frostpine. "They weren't here for the first day. She certainly hasn't seen the two of them together. Not with all this trouble going on."

Lark nodded, then gave another longing gaze at the doorway. Rosethorn still had not released Lark's Dedicate robes.

Daja's inclination was to ponder the validity of this new piece of information, but she was forced to set it all aside. There were more important concerns right now.

"As fascinating as this speculation is," Crane remarked dryly, "I'm afraid that all bets are off on Master Briar's romantic life until we get this crisis abated."

This poignant statement seemed to shake everyone out of their stupor. They immediately began conferring again. Daja mostly listened, adding a piece of advise or opinion where she thought it prudent, but overall content to let the more experienced mages decide on a plan of action.

Eventually, it was decided that they would spend the night mobilizing and preparing their mage forces, as well as making arrangements for getting the younger students to safety. With the dawn's first light, they would strike out from the temple to defend Summersea Harbor.

:-:-:

Evvy marveled at the turn of events that had dominated her life over the course of the last day. Just the previous evening, she had helped break Briar out of this very same dungeon, and now she found herself trapped inside it, along with Paloma and Pasco.

She had done her best to become friends with them over the past couple of hours, before they'd be captured. It was hard, though, not because they weren't friendly, but because she was still having trouble liking them.

Paloma she found rather pathetic. Even though she was a couple of years older than Evvy, Evvy considered herself much smarter. True, Paloma clearly had reams of book smarts, but she was as gullible as a lapdog, and far too green in every respect for Evvy to even begin to relate to her. Evvy, who until recently had spent every moment of her life scrapping in the streets and trying to survive, had only recently began to believe it was possible to really trust someone. Paloma was exactly the opposite. She'd spent her whole life in complete trust of another person, now only to find that she had been most cruelly and painfully betrayed. Perhaps, Evvy reflected, as this thought occurred to her, she had learned the easier lesson. Still, it amazed her how thoroughly Paloma had been duped over the years. Hadn't she ever wanted to think for herself?

Pasco, on the other hand, Evvy might have gotten along with rather well, except she was still angry with him over believing in Briar's guilt. It might be some time before she was able to get over this most offensive act, though he'd already apologized for it repeatedly. It was beginning to become tiresome.

Truth be told, if she hadn't been so worried about their fate, she might have been bored. The three had run out of topics of conversation quite a long time ago. Paloma had sat in the corner of the cell for a long time, until her eyes became red-rimmed from crying. Pasco had sat with her, giving her a human post to cry on, until at long last she'd fallen asleep.

Evvy might have liked to discuss possible ways to escape, if it hadn't been for that wretched Anise woman watching their every move like a hawk. The woman had barely blinked over the course of the past hour, and it was clear she had no intentions too. She seemed to have a healthy respect for what the three children might be capable of, which was equal parts anxiety and disdain. The fact that she did not underestimate them told Evvy that this woman was a very formidable foe indeed. It was also quite annoying. Evvy was used to people underestimating her, and it was usually one of her trump cards.

"How long are you going to keep us here?" she finally asked irritably. She was under no illusions that the woman would consciously give anything away, but perhaps if she started her talking, she'd accidentally let something slip.

"Till Haman tells me what else to do with you. Now shut up."

Evvy sighed. It wasn't the first time she'd been told that. The woman didn't even want to gloat to her captured prey. She was smart. Very smart. A very dangerous, dangerous foe indeed.

One bright spot in all of this was that neither Haman nor Anise seemed to have reached any conclusions about who Evvy was. Anise had done a brief body search of the three of them before shoving them into the cell, and though she'd casually picked up and felt Evvy's mage kit, she hadn't identified it for what it was. This was thanks to the blocks that Pahan Lark had put on the bag, else Anise surely would have recognized the spells which were stored inside all the small stones.

Evvy cocked her head, thinking. She decided to test a theory. If she was right, then the magic on their cell which prevented them from accessing their magic, also prevented anybody on the outside from sensing the magic inside the cell. Which meant that if she opened her mage kit and spilled the contents, Anise would have no suspicions that the stones inside it presented any threat.

It was a risk, but if the only price to pay was her identity being discovered, then Evvy was willing to pay it. On the other hand, she might also lose her mage kit. She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, then decided to go for it anyway.

Untying the soft cloth pouch from her belt, she undid the neat leather thong and spilled it all over the dusty stone floor of the cell. It was painful, to see all her beautiful jewels sparkling there, without being able to feel the power stored inside them. She quickly tucked the more valuable gems underneath her crossed legs, so that Anise would not see them. In truth, it would be difficult to distinguish one gem from another in the dim, flickering light, but if Anise was like any other person in power, there was a good chance that valuables would catch her attention, and Evvy needed to minimize her risks.

"What are you doing?" Anise suddenly snapped. She sat up quickly from the small, hard wooden chair where she'd been sitting and took to steps over to peer into the cell.

Evvy looked up and favored her with the most scornful of glances. "What does it look like," she asked. "I'm bored. I'm playing a game of stones. Is that okay with you?"

Anise narrowed her eyes, and stared at the meager collection of rocks with suspicion. "I've never seen a set of stones that looks like that. And what will you use for a board?"

Evvy rolled here eyes, and began scooping up the rocks in her hands. "There's enough dust in this place to make our own board. And where I come from, we play stones different than here, so why should my set look like yours? Pasco will play with me, won't you Pasco?" she asked, turning to the gangly boy, who had been following the conversation discreetly from his seat in the corner. Paloma was still asleep.

He shrugged indifferently. "Sure," he agreed.

Anise still looked as though she wanted to object, but she closed her mouth. Eyes still narrowed, she finally said, "Well, at least it will keep you quiet for awhile." Then she turned and resumed her seat. While her back was turned, Evvy took the opportunity to slip the hidden jewels back into the pouch. She discreetly pocketed a tiger eye. Then she carried her handful over to the corner where her two companions sat.

Evvy felt oddly triumphant as she and Pasco began their game, which surprisingly was very soothing and helped her clear her thoughts. Obviously, Anise had not yet learned that Briar Moss had a stonemage student. She hadn't even been remotely suspicious of the bag when she'd found it, and the way she'd swallowed Evvy's excuses only confirmed Evvy's prior assumptions. Evvy still felt no closer to escape than she had before, but with her magic literally at her fingertips, she felt a lot better. Someone would have to open that door at some point, and she would be ready.

:-:-:

Haman had been right about one thing. No one in Summersea got a full night's sleep that night.

The Merchant's Guild began their strike about three hours after midnight, and the results were instant pandemonium. Soon, half the docks of the port were transformed to floating splinters by cannon fire. Terrified citizens roused from their beds and went from sludgy and sleepy-eyed to panicked and energized in the space of a few heartbeats. Many of them remembered how closely the pirate attack on Winding Circle had come to directly affecting the city. Most of them at first assumed the pirates were back.

Some frightened people began building barricades in the streets. Others chose only to barricade their homes, and angry fights and brawls broke out right and left over the smallest scraps of available food or weaponry. Everyone was frightened, and very few could stop and think clearly.

Morer Penmic and the Royal Guard had their hands full maintaining the peace, while at the same time trying to gauge the tactical situation in the harbor. The timing of the event couldn't have been better conceived, and since none of Summersea's naval forces (which were at a low point already, since much of the fleet was out looking for provisions for the city at Duchess Sandrilene's earlier behest) seemed to be returning fire, one could only assume that somehow the merchants had overpowered the naval forces before beginning their strike.

At one point during the early morning darkness, by the light of a weak torch, Penmic thought he spotted a familiar, dark form weaving its way in and out of the struggling people. He recognized the gait and shoulder stoop of the Moss youth, and he paused momentarily, long enough to catch Briar's eye.

Even in the dim light of torch and star he could see the smoldering anger in those dark eyes. Briar recognized Penmic, and his face clearly said that he was not afraid of the Captain, and any challenge on his part would not have altogether pleasant consequences. Penmic, whose hands were already much to full to worry about outlawed fugitives, would have chosen to ignore the warning even if he hadn't been on Briar's side. As it was, Morer Penmic had long since decided where his loyalties lay. He served Emelan and the Duchess, not any pretended imposter like Haman. He nodded very slowly at Briar and turned his face away, as if he'd never seen him.

As for Briar, between the barricades, the fighting, the noise, the blasting, and the all-around pandemonium, he was having a very difficult time reaching the Citadel. Never before had the streets of Summersea seemed so endless. Never before had one journey seemed so long. His mind was consumed only with his goal. He did not stop to help or aide those around him. He only focused on reaching his destination. Reaching her.

The sun was cresting when he finally reached the back gates, and a new wind was rushing into Summersea harbor. A new day had dawned. This day would bring either absolute victory or defeat. Briar Moss would accept no compromise.

:-:-:

The seamen of the _Jaunty Sailor_ had not been accustomed to such a short voyage in the whole course of their careers. Their sprightly little ship had sailed from Ioness to Summersea in record time, and this phenomena was not entirely coincidental.

The eastern sky was scarlet as the harbor came into view. Despite the early hour, the sun's first muted beams illuminated a passenger on the ship's prow, already fully dressed and alert, her posture betraying a wide-eyed eagerness. The winds that had pushed the _Jaunty Sailor_ seemed to pick up even more, whipping the girl's colorful skirts about her ankles, and her tightly woven braids around her face.

Another passenger came to stand quietly behind her, admiring the way the brisk, whipping air added a brightness to her cheeks and her eyes. Though their journey to Emelan had been comparatively much shorter than it ought to have been, it had still taken several weeks, a stretch of time in which Keth had slowly begun to better appreciate his young teacher's graces.

"I daresay," he said quietly, causing her to jump a little, "that the captain wishes he could bring you on every run."

Trisana Chandler gave him a smoldering look with her sharp eyes. "That wasn't very polite, Keth," she said pointedly.

He shrugged, and smiled a little. "Sorry," he offered, though he didn't feel too sorry.

She turned to survey the ever-closing harbor. "It's so good to be home," she whispered eagerly. "I can't wait to see everyone."

Keth had gotten ample opportunities, during the voyage, to learn just who everyone consisted of. "Do they know you're coming?" he asked.

"They don't expect us nearly this soon," Tris said. "But you know how I rushed our passage."

Indeed, it seemed that, for all the patience Tris had cultured over her travels, some of it had snapped when she finally began the voyage home. Every ship they'd taken had been gently but swiftly prodded along by Tris's magic, and Keth was surprised she hadn't worn herself out already. Niko had been disapproving, but he hadn't openly reproached her.

Niko was still in Ioness, helping its Governer with a small political problem, before himself embarking on the last leg home. Tris had been far too eager to get home, so she, Keth, Glaki, and Chime had booked the final ship, with Niko's assurances that he would follow them in a few days. Perhaps he was already on his way. "These ruffled feathers should not prove too difficult to smooth over," he'd told them.

Now Tris leaned forward over the prow, allowing the splash and spray from the choppy water to sprinkle her pale face. She breathed in deeply and let out a satisfied smile.

"Now look at that," Keth teased, reaching over to pull her glasses off her face. "You have speckled spectacles."

Tris's only reply was a muffled 'hmph' as Keth pulled a clean linen handkerchief out of his pocket to clean off the spectacles, taking a moment to inspect the glass as he did so. He'd never looked so closely at Tris's spectacles before, and he was surprised to find that, for a mage of Tris's power and social standing, the workmanship of the spectacles was not as fine as it could have been. Keth pursed his lips thoughtfully. Perhaps he could help to rectify that, although he had little experience with grinding glass for optical purposes. Still, it would be an interesting field of study to pursue.

"If you're done with your examination now, Master Glass Obsessed, may I have them back, please?" Tris asked primly. Keth laughed, and handed them over.

Tris adjusted the spectacles back into place with meticulous care. As she did so, her eyes focused to the sights of the harbor, which were now much clearer than they'd been even a moment ago, and she frowned. "What is going on?" she murmured, under her breath.

Keth narrowed his eyes a little, trying to get a better look. Just as he did so, he heard a strangled cry from the crow's nest, and looked up, to see the sailor who was stationed there put his looking glass in his pocket and madly begin scrambling down the netting towards the deck.

Tris bounded off, and reached the poop deck, where the captain stood, nearly the same moment as the hurrying sailor.

"Sir," he panted. He threw a sidelong glance at Tris and Keth, and gave the captain a puzzling look. The captain too noted the presence of the weather mage and her student, but only nodded, and indicated that the sailor should continue. "The harbor, sir," he continued. "She's besieged. Half the docks are blasted, and the city has clearly suffered material damage."

Keth glanced worriedly at Tris, whose eyes were suddenly gray storms.

The captain seemed equally disturbed, though he kept his professional calm. "Pirates?" he asked, and Keth could feel Tris tense even more beside him.

The sailor shook his head, his aura of bewilderment seemingly thicker than ever. "No, sir," he said. He looked at Tris, for a moment, as if hesitant to continue, then said finally, "It's a merchant fleet, Captain, and as large a concentration as ever I've seen in Summersea."

Keth now understood the sailor's strange glance at Tris. It was common knowledge, on board, that she was daughter to one of the prominent seafaring merchant families in this part of the world. If Tris's eyes had been storms before, they were now broiling hurricanes. Her fists clenched at her sides, and he took a step back.

"Can we get to port?" was the captain's next question.

The sailor shook his head. "No sir, not without military force." He cast a worried expression over his shoulder towards the ever-nearing shore. "And I don't think they mean to just let us in, either."

There was a sort of strangled sound from beside Keth's shoulder. "We'll just see about that," Tris snorted. She raised her chin. "Captain, you leave this to me," she said quietly, her voice like iron. Then, without another word, she turned heel and stormed off toward the prow again.

The captain and the sailor turned identical semi-shocked and worried looks to Keth, who smiled with reassurance he did not feel. "It'll be fine," he told them and took off after her.

She was halfway done unwrapping one of her braids when he reached her. "What are you doing, Trisana?" he hissed, using all his will to keep himself from taking her by the arm to stop her.

"What does it look like?" she retorted. "I'm making a way home. They're not going to keep me away with a stupid siege."

"I'm sure you can get us in, but how can you keep us all safe once we're past the blockade? And what about Glaki, are you just going to take her straight into a war?" he asked desperately.

Tris's fingers paused in her unbraiding, and it seemed to Keth that the wind that had been building overhead also paused, as if waiting on her. She sighed.

"Very well," she nodded. "We'll take a rowboat, you and I. Blow our way into port, and tell the captain to sail to Winding Circle until it's safe."

"And if it's not?" he challenged.

"Well, he's a grown man, isn't he? He can think for himself!"

Keth threw his hands up. "Fine, fine. You win. I'll go talk to the captain."

Tris nodded. "Yes, and while we wait, I'll scry."

Keth whirled back around. "No way. You can't scry and push ships around the harbor. You'll wear yourself out again."

"I've been resting."

"No you haven't, you've been pushing us here for six days!"

"Will you just shut up and get going?"

Mumbling under his breath, Keth made his way to the captain again. She was very piqued. Maybe it would be best if she just got it out of her system.

Half an hour later, they sat together in a small rowboat, the finest the captain had been able to offer them. "Well, your mageness," Keth began, "what did you discover?"

"I'm not sure. The city is in chaos, and I don't recognize anyone in the Citadel." Tris frowned. "I don't have enough control, yet. I can't always get the winds to show me what I want to see."

"What do you want to see?"

"Sandry. She should be there, but I can't find her."

"You can't feel her, either?"

Tris shook her head.

"And your other friends?"

"I'm not entirely sure they're here. I haven't opened up to them yet."

"Well, why ever not?"

Tris smiled. "Oh, if they're here, they'll know I'm here soon enough." She looked at Keth, a manic glint in her eye. He clutched the side of the boat with a knowing sigh.

They were very near the blockade now. Vaguely, Keth was aware that crewmen of the ships were shouting warnings and threats at their small rowboat, though he couldn't imagine why. Theoretically, two people in a little dingy should pose no threat. But it really didn't matter.

Tris ignored them. The wind began to pick up with ferocious speed.

:-:-:

In the years that Briar, Tris, and Daja had visited Sandry's uncle at the Citadel, growing up, he'd come to know some of the plant life there almost as well as he knew his garden back home. Sandry's family had acquired a very aesthetic eye for beauty over the years, and greenery was everywhere.

So it was that guards found themselves tangled in trees that dotted the courtyard, or wrapped in unyielding tendrils of climbing ivy. Briar rarely used his magic so forcefully, and he knew by the end of today he would probably feel the effects most keenly, but he had no weapon, and adrenaline seemed to be feeding him with unnatural energy.

He remembered well the path from the courtyard to the dungeons, having traversed it himself not thirty-six hours before. What first surprised him was how abandoned everything seemed. Clearly, most of the Citadel's forces were out keeping the peace in the city. What next surprised him was the sight that met his eyes outside the only cell that seemed to be occupied.

A woman sat there, a beautiful woman, with straight, dark hair and a clean, shapely dress. But she seemed to him terribly cold, and she looked at him with dark, hateful eyes that flashed quickly up and down his frame, taking in the telltale signs on his hands that marked his identity.

"Well, well, well," she said with a smirk, standing up. "If it isn't the filthy little piece of moss."

Briar cocked an eyebrow, pausing in the doorway, and crossed his arms. "Well, you seem to have me at a disadvantage, miss," he said simply. He did his best to make himself appear relaxed, but inside he was taut and ready to spring, like the great feline hunters that inhabited the Namorn mountains.

The woman smiled again, but the smile did not touch those frosty eyes. "Why should I bother?" she said. "In a moment, you'll be dead. An unforgettable piece of street trash like you shouldn't bother with the niceties of good society."

Briar couldn't help but laughing, a little. This woman's posturing was put on to an extreme that he almost found it funny. "I've met my share of 'nice society,'" he told her. "I've learned a thing or two. But I get the feeling I really can't count you among them."

"No doubt you're speaking of your little friend, the Duchess," crowed the cold woman. At these words, Briar's eyes flashed, and his head sprung up, and the woman snickered. "She's not here," she said smoothly, a smug look on her features.

Briar's eyes flicked to the cell behind the woman. He couldn't see who was inside, but there had to have been someone, else why would this obvious cohort of Haman's be sitting in here at all? "I don't believe you," he said, at last.

"See for yourself," the woman shrugged. She walked over to the cell and kicked the door, hard. "Wake up!" While her back was turned, Briar slid the knives out of his sleeves and tucked them into his breeches, sliding them around behind his back, and resumed his previous posture.

There was some shuffling in the cells. "Come here, you little brat. I need you to show our guest that you are not his little conspiring, murdering, usurper of a pretended Duchess."

Briar might have snapped at these lies about Sandry, had he not been overcome with shock at the appearance of Evvy's slight form in the doorway of the cell. Her eyes widened with shock, but she quickly recovered, and before the cold woman could see, masked her features. She shrugged. "Yeah, so?" she asked. Briar couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. That was his girl. If the woman hadn't known Briar should recognize Evvy, he wasn't going to be the one to announce it.

The evil woman turned her back on Evvy. "There are two more," she said. "One of the harrier's whelps, and a weak little girl who wouldn't stop crying for three hours." As she spoke, Briar saw, out of the corner of his eye, Evvy hold up her mage's kit and show it to him, smiling broadly and giving him a knowing nod. He had to fight not to smile back. What a clever one she was.

"Well, I suppose," Briar said, "you're not going to tell me where the Duchess is, then, are you?" His question was casual, but inside he felt a little ill. He'd been counting on finding her here. He could check all the other cells, of course, but he had a feeling, for some reason, he'd come to the wrong place.

"No," she said shortly, laughing at the suggestion.

Briar was just wondering how best to go after this obnoxious little woman- he didn't really want to waste much time with her- when his mind was suddenly filled with something that put all other thoughts out of his mind, even, temporarily, his concern for Sandry.

He recognized her magic at once. Trisana Chandler had the most powerful magical signature of anyone he knew. She was possibly the most powerful mage of her generation, and right now she was very, very angry. And very, very, close.

He opened his mind, a wide, triumphant grin overtaking his features as he did so.

The cold woman frowned. "What are you smiling about?" she asked, suddenly. Briar ignored her.

_Daja?_ he called, still grinning like an idiot.

_Oh, now you're going to talk to me?_ Daja replied, in a tone that was trying to be angry, but he could tell that Daja sensed what he sensed, and she was every bit as jubilant as he.

_Daja, the cavalry is here_, he pointed out.

_Oh, don't be ridiculous, Briar,_ interjected Tris's snappy chiding. _You know how much I hate horses._

He laughed. _Welcome home, Coppercurls._

He had no more time for small talk, for it was then that the cold woman made her attack.


	11. Chapter Ten

Thank you to all of our readers! We appreciate your replies. :) In answer to your question, Erica Brown-yes, there are two of us, and while we both have other jobs, writing is a serious part of our lives. Who knows what may come from our individual future writings? And thank you very much-it's nice to hear that you think we're doing that well. :)

:-:-:

CHAPTER TEN

by Qwi-Xux

The attack didn't come in any physical form. Instead, the woman held her hands together and muttered something. Immediately, a ball of fire sprang up in her hands, and she threw it at Briar. It all happened in the space of an instant, but Briar's reflexes were still in excellent shape. He dodged out of the way. His anger sharpened; this woman was not only keeping him from getting to Sandry, she was holding his student captive, and she was attacking him!

Unfortunately, this deep into the Citadel, there were no plants Briar could call on. He felt roots nearby, but realized that if he tried to move them, the roof would collapse, crushing Evvy and whoever else was in the cell with her.

Briar thought fast. Evvy had been holding her mage kit... but she was in a magic-blocking cell. If only he could get the door open... It was a thick, heavy door, and only a few spaces between some thick bars had allowed him to see Evvy at all. He had to hurry. Every second he wasted on this stupid mage was a second that Sandry was in trouble.

He wanted to call on Tris and Daja, but both girls were occupied. Tris's power was still roiling-causing what damage, he could only imagine-and Daja's magical sense was prickling, showing that she was doing something else right now. Not wanting to break their concentration, Briar turned to another idea that had just blossomed.

_She probably expects me to attack with some kind of magic,_ Briar thought. In the same moment it took him to think that, he had reached for the knives he had just tucked into his breeches. They were out and flying at the woman before she knew what was coming.

Had she not ducked at the last instant, the knives would have hit her.

The woman stood back and eyed him a bit more warily. Briar kept his eyes fixed upon her, hoping she would not notice what he had thrown with the knives. He had to keep her distracted for a bit longer...

If it had been anyone but Evvy in the prison cell, it probably wouldn't have been possible, but as it was, the cell was simply not designed for skinny eleven-year-old girls; especially not skinny eleven-year-old girls who knew how to pick locks.

The woman threw another particularly nasty-looking spell at Briar- something whizzed past his ear as he jumped sideways, and in his magical vision, something shiny slammed into the wall. Unfortunately, it bounced off the wall and followed Briar. He twisted out of the way, and the spell continued past him. It didn't help that it simply pushed off of the next wall it hit and aimed for him again.

Evvy was busy at work now-her arm was just small enough to reach through the bars of the cell door to the lock. The lockpicks that Briar had thrown were held in her mouth; the one Evvy had chosen to use was being furiously worked in the lock.

Briar thanked his lucky stars that Daja had recently magicked the hinges on the door so that they opened squeak-free. The door didn't even make a whisper of sound as it swung open. As the woman mage muttered something under her breath-adding another spell to the one Briar was already dodging, no doubt-Evvy flung an object at her. It struck the mage in the back. A stunned expression crossed her face, and then her eyes rolled back in her head. She collapsed face-first on the ground.

Briar grinned and picked up the stone Evvy had thrown. "A tiger eye."

"I designed the magic," Evvy returned his grin. "I would've thrown it at her earlier, but the spell only lasts for a few seconds, and I had to call the magic into it first."

"Your own design, huh?" Briar examined the tiger eye. "I hope it wasn't a big working..."

Evvy sighed. "No, Pahan Briar. It wasn't." Then she ran and flung herself on him.

"That's my girl." Briar patted Evvy's back, his mind still on Sandry, and he itched to go find her. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to go from here. Evvy stepped back, and his gaze fell on the cell door, where two other children were emerging. Briar raised his eyebrows at Evvy.

"Oh. Briar. This is Pasco and Paloma."

Ah. Sandry's student and the girl that had been in Haman's care.

Wait a minute...Sandry's student...hadn't her letters said he was from a harrier family? "You," Briar pointed at Pasco, who jumped and looked at Briar guiltily.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

Evvy rolled her eyes. "Get a grip," she told Pasco, sounding for a moment very much like Rosethorn.

Bemused, Briar frowned at Pasco. He wasn't sure what Pasco was sorry for, but there were other matters at hand. He had to get to Sandry. "You're from a harrier family, right?"

"Yes..." Pasco said slowly.

"Sandry was locked up somewhere, and I thought it was here...except I can't find her. She's somewhere dark, and her magic is cut off. Do you know- -"

"Under the courthouse," Pasco said immediately. "It's right near the Citadel and they have magic-blocking cells. They're all underground and have no lights or windows."

How ironic that Sandry would be locked in the same place where he had been proclaimed guilty. "You three, come with me. It's not safe here."

:-:-:

"Dedicate Skyfire! There's a ship approaching! The..._Jaunty Sailor_, it says!"

The Dedicates in Winding Circle had just finished their preparations. The students of Winding Circle had been taken to a town nearby, until it was safe for them to return. The Dedicates and mages had been about to set sail from Winding Circle's harbor to go around behind the merchants at Summersea's harbor.

And now, as they were about to set out with the dozen ships they had procured during the night, a foreign ship approached. Skyfire's sharp eyes turned to the vessel, and then he looked over at Lark and Rosethorn, who were nearby. "It could be a trick from the merchants. Dedicates! Prepare your guards!"

Dedicates on numerous ships were already standing at ready, and others quickly moved into place. The _Jaunty Sailor_ continued to head directly for them. There was a man-the captain, Lark noted-standing at the prow of the ship. "Ahoy there!" he called when he was within voice range.

"What is your purpose here?" Skyfire bellowed back.

"I came at the behest of Mage Trisana Chandler," the captain called.

Lark froze, exchanging glances with Rosethorn. She stepped up beside Skyfire. "What do you know of Tris?"

The ship was coming still closer. "Halt where you are!" Skyfire commanded, when the captain was within distance where they didn't have to shout at each other.

The captain turned and gave the command to someone to put down anchor. Seamen rushed to obey. In answer to Lark's question, the captain said, "Trisana has traveled with us these six days. We were to set in at port at Summersea harbor, but found it besieged. Trisana insisted on taking a rowboat through the harbor, and commanded us to come here to safety. I think she used those winds of hers to get us here in record time." The captain motioned to Winding Circle's harbor.

"Certainly sounds like Tris," Rosethorn muttered.

"It is Tris," this came from Daja, who had just now emerged from a magical working that she had been doing on some chain nets. "She blasted into the harbor just a few minutes ago."

Rosethorn raised her eyebrows. "And you didn't say anything?"

"I was in the middle of a magical working. And with Tris's temper, I knew you would realize she was back soon enough." Daja grinned.

"Well. That is welcome news," Lark said. She knew that Tris could definitely watch out for herself-she could only wonder if there would be anything left of the merchant blockade by the time the Winding Circle defenders arrived. "Did Niklaren Goldeye accompany you as well?" she asked the captain.

"Alas, I fear not," the captain replied. "He was to come shortly behind us."

Conversation was put to a halt when a huge white dog suddenly ran across the deck and pushed up to where the captain stood, nearly bowling the poor man over in the process. Directly following, a small girl was chasing him with glee.

"Little Bear!" Lark exclaimed.

Perhaps Little Bear knew he was close to home, or perhaps he heard or smelled someone familiar. Regardless, he was worked up about something. He yelped excitedly, and the girl wrapped her arms around him, trying to pull him back.

Lark thought quickly. "I'm afraid you've arrived at a rather desperate time. The Duke of Emelan is dead, and an imposter is in possession of the Citadel. We have cleared out Winding Circle, and are about to leave to defend Summersea Harbor. I would tell you to sail away, and come back when it is safe. I do not wish your daughter to come to any harm."

The captain's eyebrows rose, and he glanced from Lark to the little girl and back. "My daughter? Oh, no, I'm afraid you are mistaken. This is the Mage Trisana's child."

Lark blinked, not sure she had heard him correctly.

"What do you mean, Tris's child?" Rosethorn demanded sharply. "Tris does not have a child!"

"I'm afraid she does, Dedicate," the captain said. "And a fiesty one at that." He stepped out of the way to avoid Little Bear's excited jumping as the little girl again tried to grab the dog. "And if you are to defend the harbor, I will to watch her while you go. I will sail the ship around away from the fighting, and set anchor by Four Farthings. If you would be so kind as to send Mage Trisana when the fighting is over, then I will wait to continue my journey. We made it here much faster than I had expected, and so I will not have to depart for several days."

"We will make sure someone comes to collect the child and the dog," Lark assured.

"And the dragon, if you please," the captain said.

"Dragon?" Lark and Rosethorn repeated simultaneously. Lark closed her eyes for a moment, then said warily, "We will certainly do that. Thank you, Captain." She nodded deeply to him.

"The pleasure is mine, Dedicate." With that, the captain commanded the anchor to be drawn up, and began sailing away.

As the mages finally began their journey toward Summersea, Rosethorn turned on Daja. "I don't suppose you know anything concerning Tris and a child? Or a dragon?"

"Not a thing. It was news to me as well."

Rosethorn sighed. "Tris has a lot of explaining to do."

:-:-:

"Tri-is!" Keth kept very close to his teacher. He had to; anywhere outside of three feet of her personal space had become a rage of winds. The ships in the harbor had scattered. Any weapon thrown at Keth and Tris's small boat was hurled back at the attacker with ferocious force. They made it to the harbor with no trouble at all, and Keth climbed out of the rowboat, helping Tris up after him.

It looked as if they had entered a war zone. Docks had been blasted away; the streets nearby had cannonballs lodged in them; buildings within firing range had been hit. Just out of firing range there was also some kind of blockade that looked as if it had been hastily thrown together. Beyond that, Keth could make out some kind of guards talking amongst themselves. They were still standing, as Tris's winds hadn't extended that far yet.

The merchants on the ships were no longer firing the cannons, but they had them at ready. They didn't seem inclined to get off of their ships, but Keth knew that could change in an instant.

"Tris?" he said again.

Tris had her grey eyes closed. She was silent for several long minutes, and then she opened her eyes and glanced at Keth.

"Tris?"

Tris continued to ignore him, her eyes fixed on one ship in particular. "That's the head of the merchant guild's ship." Her tone of voice left no doubt in Keth's mind that she was probably going to do something regrettable to the head of the merchant guild-perhaps not regrettable for Tris, but definitely for the merchant.

"Do you even know what's going on here?"

"That's what I've been finding out," Tris said grimly. The winds continued to whip around them. "Daja gave me the rundown on what's been going on. Suffice to say the head of the merchant guild is in on some kind of plot against Emelan, and that Sandry and Briar are in trouble." Her tone suggested there was a lot more to it than that, but she wasn't going to go into it right now. She turned away from Keth and faced the harbor head on. Her fingers reached to undo one of her braids-one that Keth knew was a lightning braid.

"Um, and what are you going to do?" Keth eyed her crackling braid. While he no longer feared lightning-and had, in fact, come to love it-the thought of Tris using it against a fleet of ships wasn't something he particularly wanted to see.

"Teach the head of the merchant guild a lesson he won't soon forget."

"But-"

"Oh, don't worry. He'll be very much alive, as will all the other merchants. But this is going to stop here and now until I have my answers," Tris said.

Once, before Keth knew Tris, he would have laughed if she had said something like that. Stop a fleet of attacking ships until she got her answers? Now, though, he knew-it was no laughing matter. "If you're going to use lightning, then I'm going to help."

"I can handle this, Keth," Tris snapped.

"I didn't say you couldn't," Keth retorted with just as much fire in his voice. "But I'm going to help. I don't need you wearing yourself out more than you already are."

They glared at each other for a moment, and then Tris nodded shortly. "Fine."

Satisfied-Tris often ignored her limits, and this way, he might be able to take some of the strain off of her-Keth braced himself for the power that was about to be unleashed.

:-:-:

Getting out of the Citadel was no trouble; Briar just led the three kids back the way he had come. The guards were still wrapped in the garden plants, struggling to get out. He stalked past them, his mind again singularly focused on Sandry. He did ask how Evvy, Pasco, and Paloma had wound up in the cell, and they explained. It seemed Haman hadn't known who Evvy was anymore than the evil mage woman had.

Evvy, Pasco, and Paloma were hard-pressed to keep up with him at the speed he was going. Briar was grateful that the court building was so close; he didn't have to deal with the panicking people and blockades much at all. When he reached the entrance to the court, he said, "Evvy. Give me one of your light crystals."

Evvy quickly dug into her pouch and pulled out a crystal full of shining white light. Briar tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you. Now all three of you, wait here."

"But-" Evvy began.

"Wait. Here."

Something in Briar's tone must have struck something, because Evvy's eyes widened, and she nodded. She, Pasco, and Paloma hurriedly sat on one of the benches just inside the building.

Briar quickly found the stairs leading down to the cells underneath the court. It wasn't hard to figure out which one Sandry was in; it had a guard standing in front of it. He wasn't a mage though, and no match for Briar in the mood he was in. Within ten seconds, he had been incapacitated and lay in a heap on the floor. Briar grabbed the keys off of his belt. It took four tries before he had the right key.

He turned the lock and tried to open the door, but found it blocked by something inside. Fear stabbed through him. Was he too late? Had something happened? She had been in here for several hours, at least, and he couldn't hear anything from within the cell. "Sandry?" he called frantically through the crack. "Sandry!" _If something's happened to her, I will never forgive myself._

There was no reply. Briar pushed on the door and found that it gave a little at a time. He quickly pulled out Evvy's crystal and squeezed through the opening. He immediately saw what had been blocking the door-Sandry. She was limp on the ground, but breathing, and just the sight of her drawing breath made Briar sag in relief. Her hair and clothes were filthy from the dirty cell floor, but she was the most beautiful sight Briar had ever seen. "Sandry?" he said quietly, reaching out and touching her arm. She still didn't respond. _I've got to get her out of here. I can't feel her with my magic._

Carefully, Briar scooped her up and carried her out of the cell, setting her on the ground near the fallen guard. As soon as he did so, Sandry's eyes snapped open, and she let out a strangled cry, flailing her arms to strike.

Briar leaned backward so as not to get slapped. "Hey! Easy!" He grabbed her arms. "It's all right. You're safe."

Sandry blinked, looking at him with confusion on her face. "Am I dreaming?" she whispered.

"No, Sandry," Briar said gently.

Sandry promptly burst into tears, throwing her arms around Briar and sobbing into his chest. He could only make out some of her words, but he gathered that shortly after she had contacted him, she had lost consciousness-her mind must have shut down to avoid the darkness. She finally turned her head up and he could hear her more clearly. She wailed, "And I thought my fear of the dark was gone! I had dealt with it!"

"No one will blame you for being afraid again. You never expected to be locked up in a dark space with no magic," Briar replied softly.

"I blame me," Sandry sniffled. She hiccupped once, then leaned her head again on Briar's chest, taking a deep breath. "I'm so pathetic."

"You're not pathetic, Sandry. You're the bravest person I know." It was true. Being scared of being locked up in a dark place didn't make her any less brave to him. Everyone had something they feared. He was sure that if he were faced with the reality of reliving his past of scrounging for food on the streets and having no magic, he would react quite the same way Sandry had to the darkness.

Sandry choked on a laugh. "How can you...never mind. We don't have time to get into it right now. I have to get a hold of Lark. I have to stop Haman." Still, she remained where she was, and Briar was no longer in a hurry. He was just glad to have found Sandry, and he was even more glad she was here in his arms. For a moment, it didn't matter that she was a Duchess. For a moment, he could ignore everything going on outside the courthouse.

Until a huge surge of magic welled up in him. The spell of the moment was broken. Sandry gasped and suddenly went rigid. "Tris?" she exclaimed.

Yes, it was definitely Tris. She was up to something big. Briar grinned, standing to his feet and offering Sandry a hand up. "Oh, yes. Didn't I tell you? She's home."

:-:-:

When one of Captain Penmic's men ran up to him, panting, he froze. "What is it, Ilmer?"

"Captain...the harbor...you should see this."

Penmic had already been making his way to the harbor, and in fact, was nearly there. "What is it? What's going on?"

"I...I'm not entirely sure, Captain, but..." Ilmer trailed off and shook his head.

Penmic picked up pace, motioning his men along with him. The breezes on all the streets of Summersea seemed to have picked up, but the closer to the harbor he got, the more they blew. The dawn sky grew darker, as if a storm had suddenly decided to brew. More of the Citadel's guards were waiting at the last blockade that had been thrown up near the harbor, and Penmic stopped beside them. He had a direct view of the harbor from here, and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. He could only stare at the sight before him.

Standing directly in front of the harbor were two people-a red-haired woman and a taller man. It was the woman Penmic's eyes fell upon. She was standing with her arms raised. Lightning ran over her, and over the body of the man beside her, but neither appeared hurt by it at all. More lightning flashed in the grey sky overhead, and as Penmic watched, a particularly large bolt shot down and struck the red-haired woman. A second followed and hit the man beside her. Both bolts of lightning stayed in the sky, holding their position, though they moved like undulating snakes.

Working together, the two of them wound the bolts of lightning in and around each other. When it was one long, braided strip, they turned their hands in unison toward the ships in the harbor, and the lightning running from the sky to their bodies shot out, enveloping the air around one of the ships. Suddenly, it struck the bottom side of the ship, burning a huge hole through the hull. Water poured in, and the ship began to sink.

"What are they doing?" one of the guards whispered in a stunned voice.

It took Penmic a minute to find his voice. "I have no idea," he said in awe.

The woman clenched her fists, and the lightning broke off. The traces of it on her and the man slowly crackled and faded. She reached up and began to undo one of the braids in her hair, and the man grabbed her wrist. It looked like she turned and said something to him, and he slowly put down his hand. She resumed undoing her braid.

Penmic suddenly had the urge to get away, far away, but he stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on the girl. He knew who she was-he had known from the moment he laid eyes on her. It could only be Trisana Chandler, the weather mage. He had seen her once or twice in passing, when she had been at the Citadel with Sandrilene, but had never spoken to her. From everything he had heard, though, she had quite a temper. You simply did not make Trisana Chandler angry. And from the looks of it, she was beyond angry. He did not know who the man was, but if he was in Trisana's company, on top of what he had just done with the lightning, it seemed he was also someone that would be loathe to oppose.

Tris finished undoing her braid, and a huge gust of wind struck Penmic and his guards, knocking them backward. They pushed to their feet, leaning against the wind, and narrowed their eyes so they could see out to the harbor. Tris and the man beside her were standing in the center of a gale of winds, and from the looks of the force that was striking the ships, they were hurricane-size winds. Penmic and his men were only getting a small piece of it.

As he watched in awe, Tris pushed every single one of the merchant ships into a huge group in the middle of the harbor. Cannons and other weapons were blasted off of the ships, falling into the water. When Tris had bunched them all together, she spun her finger. It took Penmic a moment to figure out what she had done; then he saw the ocean water swirling around the merchant ships, and realized that she had somehow commanded the winds to circle the ships, creating an effective prison for them.

Just how long, Penmic wondered, could Tris hold the winds and ships in place? He knew that every mage had their limitations, and not even a great mage could hold a working like this forever.

The ship that Tris had struck with lightning was still sinking, and men began to jump off of it, swimming for shore. Penmic took this moment to wave to his men. They cautiously moved forward, following Penmic's lead. Penmic stopped when he was almost level with Tris, holding a hand to stop his people. They froze, waiting for his command.

Tris stood there for several more moments, and then slowly lowered her hands. The winds around Penmic and his guard died out, but the gale surrounding the merchant ships held. Abruptly, Tris spun around, facing Penmic's direction. Her grey eyes were snapping. "You're the captain of the guard at the Citadel," she said, seeing his insignia.

"Yes," Penmic acknowledged cautiously, praying he wouldn't say something to anger her further.

"I've heard about what's been going on here. That-" she pointed to the men swimming to shore "-is the head of the merchant guild and his crew."

Penmic heard her tone and nodded at his men. "Arrest them," he commanded. There were only ten or twelve total crewmembers that had been on the head merchant's ship. It wasn't a problem to capture them-as each one reached the shore, they crawled up and raised their hands in surrender.

All but one-he made it to shore and stood proudly. "I will not surrender!"

"Take him," Penmic ordered. Five of his guard converged on the head of the merchant guild, and within seconds, he was restrained.

Tris stepped forward and looked down at one of the surrendering merchants. "Uncle Eryil," she said in disgust.

The merchant looked up in confusion, and then his eyes widened. "Not...Trisana?"

"Yes, Trisana," Tris retorted sarcastically. She spun on Penmic. "Now. It appears you're helping me, but just whose side are you on?" The man standing at her side remained silent, but he kept sharp eyes on everyone nearby.

"The Duchess Sandrilene's," Penmic answered immediately. "Unfortunately, the Duchess has been wrongly accused and removed from the Citadel. She's being imprisoned under the courthouse."

"And Briar?" Tris snapped, her eyes narrowing. Penmic watched her dark, angry eyes and forced himself not to step back when lightning sparks began running through her hair and down her arms.

She obviously knew of the happenings recently. Up until now, Penmic had simply avoided the subject of Briar, and had pointedly ignored it when he escaped or passed by. Now, however, he had one of Briar's best friends standing in front of him-an extremely dangerous best friend-and Penmic's own guard was standing nearby.

Fortunately, the guard with him was hand-picked by him because the stood by the Duchess. He trusted them. "I believe Mage Briar Moss was also wrongly accused," Penmic said. "Though I do not know his whereabouts."

Tris was silent for a minute or two, almost as if her mind was elsewhere, and then she turned her eyes back on Penmic. "I do. And Sandry is no longer imprisoned. I would question your loyalties, but Sandry and Daja both say you're trustworthy."

That was high praise, and Penmic was glad to hear it.

Tris continued, "I've told Sandry and Briar to meet me at the Citadel. You do something with these-merchants." Tris again glared at the merchants, as if they had no right to be known by such a title.

"My men will imprison the merchants. What about the ones in the harbor?"

"My wind will hold them for long enough. Help is already on its way," Tris replied, not saying what help she was referring to.

Penmic didn't ask. He simply nodded. "I'm coming with you to the Citadel."

Tris opened her mouth to argue, then eyed Penmic more closely and nodded. "Fine. But stay out of my way."

Penmic quickly left orders with some of his men, then took two that he especially trusted and headed back to the Citadel with Tris and her companion. From what he could guess, Briar must have tracked down the Duchess. That didn't surprise him-the connection that Sandry, Briar, Tris, and Daja had was infamous.

Penmic wasn't sure where Daja currently was, but she had to be somewhere nearby. With Tris's return, the Four were together again.

Haman had absolutely no idea what was headed his way.

:-:-:

Sandry was still humiliated about her experience in the cell, and even more that Briar had seen her in such a state, but she was trying to push it to the back of her mind. She had other things to do now.

_Not that Briar hasn't seen you in every state imaginable_, she thought wryly to herself. It was true. Living with someone for so many years, you saw them at their best and their worst. _That's right, Sandry. And you've seen Briar in just as many states. So stop worrying about it, _she told herself firmly.

The part of her that was not embarrassed was thankful beyond words. She couldn't begin to describe the relief she had had upon seeing Briar's face when she opened her eyes, nor could she explain the feelings that had welled up in her so strongly as she clung to him. He had come for her. Despite everything, despite any danger to himself, he had come for her.

"Briar?"

Briar had just finished dragging the unconscious guard into her cell and locking him in. "Yes?" He turned to face her. His black hair was grimy, and he had dirt streaked across his face. His once-white tunic now matched the brown of his breeches.

Looking into his concerned green-grey eyes, Sandry was suddenly able to put to words the feelings that had been broiling inside her since she had first seen Briar again. Love. She loved Briar Moss. For everything he was, she loved him. Sandry opened her mouth to speak, then choked on her words. She couldn't say it. Not now. Not here. It wasn't that she didn't want to...she simply wanted some time to think about the whole thing first. "Um...thank you. For coming to get me."

Briar's eyes searched hers, and he slowly nodded. "Anytime, Sandry," he said, very seriously.

Sandry and Briar went upstairs, where Pasco, Paloma, and Evvy were seated. Sandry was relieved to see that they were safe.

"Sandry and I are going for help. I want you three to stay here," Briar told them as he and Sandry approached.

Evvy immediately put up protest, and Pasco turned his wide eyes on Sandry. She recognized his look-he didn't want to argue with Briar, as he was probably still feeling bad about believing Briar was guilty, but he wanted to come, too. Paloma simply chewed on her lower lip and looked from Briar to Sandry and back, then down at her hands.

"Briar," Sandry said, "Paloma, at least, needs to come with us."

"What? Why?" Briar asked.

"Because the magic that Haman uses-temporarily absorbing the magics of those around him-it's not his."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's Paloma's," Sandry said softly, her eyes fixed on the girl. Paloma looked up and met Sandry's eyes. "I'm certain it is. Haman had me locked away before I could say anything, but I think Daja suspects too. When I did her magical weaving...Briar, Paloma has been absorbing and using others' magics. She used Pasco's dance magic, and my thread magic, but it's only been in tiny amounts. Her magic barely seems to be there. She has the same ability as Haman. Thinking about that, why do you think that Haman would keep her so close for so long?"

Briar's eyes widened. "He's been stealing her magic. Like what Daja said happened to Frostpine."

"Yes. Haman was trained at Lightsbridge. I think he really is a truthsayer-or has the ability to be, even though he sometimes fails to use it." Like at Briar's trial. "But I think he found Paloma, and realized that he could take her magic and use it. I don't know exactly why he wanted it, but there has to be a reason."

Paloma finally spoke up. "But...why do I have to come with you?"

"Because we're going to have to face Haman once we get help. And if he has your magic, we may need you there to break the tie." If they could break it at all. When Frostpine learned he had magic, it had been because the person stealing his magic had died. _Well, if Haman dies...I can't say I'll be sorry to see him go, _Sandry thought grimly.

"If she gets to go, then I'm coming, too," Evvy said stoutly, shooting Paloma a look.

_You know, Briar,_ Sandry mind spoke, _if we don't let Pasco and Evvy come, they're just going to follow us._

_And they can't._ Aloud, Briar said, "Evvy, if you come, you'll give Haman another weapon to use. If he hasn't absorbed your magic, I don't want you around where he can absorb it. Same goes for you, Pasco. Coming would only put us in more danger."

_Except he already absorbed Pasco's magic,_ Sandry thought at Briar. _He was going to frame Pasco instead, remember? And he probably has my magic as well. I don't know if he has Evvy's._

_From what Evvy told me, Haman didn't realize who she is, or that she even had magic. _

"Paloma," Sandry said. "Does Haman have to know someone's a mage to use their magic?"

"Yes. And he has to concentrate on their magic to get it," Paloma replied.

"Can he use more than one magic at a time?" Briar asked.

"No. He can use one, then switch, but he can't use two at the same time."

Sandry nodded. That was something to remember. "I'm sure you'd be able to help, Evvy, but if Haman doesn't already have your magic and you come in with us, he might realize who you are, and...well, I really don't want him pulling down the ceiling on us or anything."

Evvy scuffed her foot, and Pasco sighed. "They're right," Pasco told Evvy grumpily.

Evvy had a very stubborn look on her face-one that made her look particularly like Briar when he was disagreeable. "Fine. Then I'll stay out of sight. But I want to come."

Briar opened his mouth to respond, but Paloma's soft voice broke in. "Please let them come with me."

Sandry and Briar both looked at her. Paloma blushed and looked down. "It's just..." She sighed, shrugged, and looked at Evvy and Pasco helplessly.

Sandry studied her for a moment, thinking quickly. Paloma had never had friends-or companions-her own age. While she had only just met Pasco and Evvy, maybe she would be able to deal with this whole upcoming battle better if the others were there.

_Briar? _

_I know,_ Briar's mental voice sighed. "All right. I don't have time to argue. Evvy, Pasco, you two can come. But you have to do exactly as I say, and stay out of sight. And actually, I don't want Paloma in sight of Haman unless we need her to be. So I want you three to stay together, and watch out for each other. Understand?"

All three children nodded.

"All right, then. Come on."

With Briar and Sandry in the lead, they exited the building. She was about to silently ask Briar if they were going to go to the Citadel first, and how exactly they were going to get in, when Tris's voice rattled through their minds. _Welcome back, Sandry._ There was an underlying current of great power and purpose in her mental voice.

_Same to you,_ Sandry said. _I'm glad you're home, Tris. _

_I am too...I just didn't expect to come home to this. Can't stay out of trouble for even a little while when I'm gone, can you? Where are you two headed? _

_I was just about to ask Briar that,_ Sandry replied.

_Oh, I have a Captain __Penmic__ here, Sandry. He seems like he's all right, but... _

Daja's voice floated into their minds. _I believe he is trustworthy. It's obvious he doesn't like or trust Haman. And he has helped me several times since this whole ordeal began._

That was news to Sandry. _Penmic__ has always seemed like a good man to me. My Uncle liked him a great deal. _

Tris seemed satisfied. I'm _going to head for the Citadel,_ she said. _This Haman has to be stopped. _

_We'll meet you there,_ Briar answered. _But Tris, about Haman-it's a long story, but it seems he's been stealing magic from a child so he can suck up other people's magics. _

_I know. I got the whole story from Daja. She guessed that's what was happening when she saw Paloma's magic in some kind of mirror she made...or something like that. She gave me the story very quickly. _

_You have to be careful,_ Briar said. _He'll absorb your magic and use it against all of us. _

Tris gave the equivalent of a mental snort. _I'd like to see him try. Besides, Briar...it took me years to master my power. I can only begin to imagine what will happen if he tries to absorb it and use it. He won't be able to control it. That could be dangerous, but if I'm there, I should be able to keep him from causing too much damage. _

Sandry hadn't thought of that. Tris was powerful; maybe the most powerful weather mage in the world. Had Haman ever absorbed magic that powerful and unpredictable? _You're right, Tris. And Haman is arrogant. That-and your magic-could be his downfall, if we can play the cards right._

:-:-:

When Daja and the twelve ships that had set sail from Winding Circle came into view of the Summersea harbor, every mage stopped and stared at the sight before them.

"Tris," Rosethorn snorted.

Daja grinned. The merchant ships were all pushed together, being held in place by a flurry of winds that were even now beginning to die down. "It looks like rounding up the merchants won't be too difficult."

"That girl never ceases to surprise me," Skyfire's booming voice said.

"Yes, you and everyone else," Frostpine chuckled.

Daja pulled out the chain net that she had spelled. "If you don't need my help, I'm going to find Tris, Sandry, and Briar. I think they're definitely going to need my help."

A shadow crossed over Lark's face, and she nodded. "We can handle this. Go."

Daja handed Frostpine the net. "Here. This should help."

"Thank you." Daja turned to find one of the rowboats, but stopped when he said, "And Daja? Be careful."

"I will."

:-:-:

Tris made her way purposefully through the streets of Summersea, Keth beside her and Penmic and his two men at her heels. _Daja? You busy?_

_Not particularly. Seems like a weather-mage took care of most of our problems at the harbor. And here the Dedicates were all prepared to go into battle._ Daja's mental voice was amused.

_Sandry? Briar? _

_Yes?_ they answered as one.

_Where is this child that Haman is stealing magic from? Paloma_? The very idea that anyone would steal magic from a child made her blood boil even more.

_With us. We're taking her to the Citadel. She's tied into Haman's magic,_ Sandry answered.

_Good. _

_Why?_ Daja wondered.

_If Haman is taking her magic, then he can't risk harming her, or he would lose his ability to absorb magic,_ Tris replied thoughtfully. _We can use that to our advantage. _

_I only want to bring her into this if we have to,_ Sandry said. _I mean, I know she's the main part of it, but I don't want her face-to-face with Haman unless she's forced to. _

_Of course not,_ Daja said. _But I fear it may come down to that,_ saati.

Sandry sighed in their minds. _I know. We're at the Citadel now. We'll wait here for you, Tris. _

_I'm coming, as well,_ Daja said grimly. _I was around Haman-I went to his house. He might already have my magic. If so, I would like to be there to keep at bay anything he might use it for._

_We'll see you soon, then,_ Sandry said.

_Oh, and while we're having this chat, I should ask. Tris, what is this about you having a child and a dragon?_ Daja asked mildly.

_What?_ Briar and Sandry both exclaimed.

_A child?_ Sandry said.

_A dragon?_ That was Briar.

Tris rolled her eyes. _You act surprised. You should know me better than that. It's a long story, and one that I'll tell later. Suffice to say that Glaki-the child-is an orphan mage in my care, though she's not an ambient mage. The dragon is a small glass creature that my student made. _

_Your student? _That was all three of them.

_He's with me now,_ Tris affirmed. _But I don't have time to chat right now. I have to focus on getting to the Citadel. _

_You'd better explain everything later, Coppercurls, _Briar said.

_In lots of detail,_ Sandry added.

_Oh, don't worry. I expect the same from you three._ With that, Tris cut off communications and continued on to the Citadel. The conversation with her friends had done her a world of good. It had been far too long since they had been able to talk like that.

The streets of Summersea were rowdy and crowded, but the panicked people that ran everywhere, as well as the barricades they had set up, didn't hinder Tris at all. She pushed her winds ahead of her, racing through the streets, clearing a path for her and those with her. She knew that she was going to pay for using all of this magic later-she had been using it for weeks to get home, and now she had used two of her braids-but it was worth it. This had to be done.

"So who are you, anyway?" She heard Penmic ask Keth.

"I'm Keth. She's my teacher."

Tris glanced over her shoulder long enough to see Keth nod at her, and Penmic raise his eyebrows. "I see," Penmic said.

In no time at all, Tris's little band had reached the Citadel. Sandry and Briar had already arrived, as the courthouse was right near the Citadel, but they stood in the shadows near the gate entrance. She couldn't see them until she felt for their presences.

"Tris!" Sandry ran forward and threw her arms around the other girl.

Tris flushed, awkwardly giving Sandry a hug in return. Briar emerged behind Sandry. "I see you haven't changed much, Coppercurls," he said with a grin.

"I see you have," Tris replied.

"Duchess Sandrilene." This from Captain Penmic, who stood at attention.

Sandry looked at him very seriously. "At ease, Captain. I want to thank you for all the help you've been, though I'm sure I don't know half of what you've been doing."

"I'm sure I will explain later, Your Eminence."

"Yes, I'm sure you will."

Briar turned and waved at someone still in the shadows. Three children slowly emerged. Tris eyed all of them. She, of all of the Four, had been the one that had been most out of touch. It took a lot longer for letters to get to her, and she and Niko had traveled so much that she was sure some letters missed her. She had only received two from Sandry, one from Daja, and none from Briar. She remembered Sandry saying she had taken a student, but couldn't remember his name. "Your student?" she asked Sandry, referring to the only boy among the three children.

Sandry nodded. "This is Pasco Acalon," she said. "And this is Evvy Dingzai-she's Briar's student." She motioned to a small girl with black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes.

Tris rose her eyebrows. Briar had a student? She could picture Sandry with a student, but Briar? How in the world had that happened? "That's a story I'll definitely have to hear," she muttered to Briar. Then her eyes fell on the last child, a dark haired, green-eyed girl who stood timidly behind Briar. "You must be Paloma."

Paloma nodded quickly and looked at the ground.

Tris waved at Keth. "This is Kethlun-Keth-Warder. He's my student."

Sandry and Briar both raised their eyebrows. "For some reason I expected someone..."

"Younger?" Keth supplied for Sandry.

Tris clapped her hands briskly together. "We'll do our catching up later. Right now, we have business to attend to." She gestured at the gate to the Citadel, which was closed, locked, and guarded.

"Right. And watch your backs. There was a nasty woman mage that Evvy knocked out, but I don't know when she'll come around or if she already has," Briar warned.

Tris drew a deep breath and walked up the gate, grabbing at all the winds she could reach. The guards at the gate saw her coming and held their weapons at ready. "What is your business here?" one of them asked.

The sky was again darkening. A bolt of lightning struck the ground directly in front of Tris, and the guards jumped. Lightning ran over Tris's body, crackling and converging on her hands. "I," the weather-mage growled, "am here to put Haman in his place."


	12. Chapter Eleven

Thanks to our readers for their patience, and I hope this extra-long chapter makes it up to you. I'd also like to especially thank the T/B fan since the fact that you liked our story despite opposing 'ship views was a compliment of the highest caliber. -Sache

This is the second to last chapter in our story. It's taken over a year to write, but we've had a lot of fun, and hope that you readers have, too. Your reviews have really kept us motivated, and we appreciate them all. :) -Qwi

:-:-:

CHAPTER ELEVEN

by Sache8

Mage Trisana looked exactly as Pasco would have expected a weather mage to look when angry- the human personification of a thunderhead. She was marching resolutely in the front of the group, heading towards the heart of the Citadel. They couldn't be quite sure where Haman was, but there were several places more logical than others.

Captain Penmic had remained behind with the other guards, once he saw their hesitance to go against Haman's word in the Citadel. It seemed a great many of them were unsure of what to believe, even despite assurances from the Duchess herself of her innocence. The fact remained that Briar's magic and Sandry's magic had been used in very suspicious circumstances. So Penmic had remained behind to fight a war of words. Pasco certainly hoped it wouldn't come to a battle of swords.

"It's terrible, my magic."

Pasco looked over, to see Paloma frowning beside him.

"What's that?" he asked her, confused.

She looked at him, her dark eyes wide and frightened, putting him in mind of a dove or a pigeon- a quiet, harmless little bird that was somehow thrust into the middle of a situation it didn't really understand. "My magic," she repeated. "I can use other people's magic. That's a terrible thing. I hate it. It can't help anybody." She looked on the verge of crying.

Pasco risked a glance up to Sandry, hoping she might have overheard these comments and would be able to help him out, but she was deep in serious conversation with Mage Briar and Mage Trisana's student, Keth. Pasco still found it rather odd that her student was older than she was.

Pasco had never liked being put on the spot, but he nonetheless racked his brain with all his might, trying to think of a good example of how Paloma's strange magic could be put to good use. "Well," he said, "I don't think that's totally true. I mean, look, you used my magic to put everybody to sleep at the studio. Trust me, some of them could really use a nap once in a while." He did his best to sound lighthearted.

She made an effort to smile, but her eyes were still sad. With a small smile, she returned her full attention to keeping up with Mage Trisana, a task that was considerably more difficult for her than for Pasco, because her legs were much shorter.

Sandry was now pointing at random spots along the stone corridors, and conferring with Mage Briar about them as they continued walking.

"What's she pointing at?" Paloma wondered.

"They can see magic," Pasco told her. "All of them. I've seen her do it before. My guess is she's pointing out spells."

Paloma nodded. "Mas-, I mean Haman always puts up warding spells wherever he goes."

From just behind them, they heard Evvy snicker. Pasco twisted around, to see a small smirk twisting her features. "Not very good ones," she said. "I broke them apart in about three seconds."

Paloma seemed confused. "Most people seemed to have trouble with Haman's wards. I always understood them to be particularly strong."

"Not for someone who's a mage and a thief," Evvy declared, looking very pleased with herself. Her expression reminded Pasco of his mother's tabby cat when she'd trounced a moth or a mouse.

As they walked, Pasco found himself wondering why they hadn't encountered any resistance thus far. Surely there were guards or harriers or someone that were supposed to be patrolling these corridors. Then again, he reflected, the city was also in chaos. No doubt most of the guards were out trying to regain order. It was a stroke of luck, really.

Pasco knew instantly he shouldn't have entertained the thought. As if on cue, they stepped around a corner and into a long, low room which Duke Vedris had often used as a lounge in the evenings. Standing by the window nearest the far door was the cruel, beautiful woman who'd held Pasco and the two girls captive only a few hours ago. Her eyes widened in unadulterated anger. "You!" she cried, her eyes shooting daggers directly at Briar.

"Aww, scum-suckers," Briar swore under his breath. "Keep going, Tris, I'll handle this."

"I'll stay too," Sandry said, setting her small chin.

"No," Briar said. He sounded almost mild. "Trust me, I've got this covered. Keep going, you'll need all the help you can get."

Sandry looked hesitant, and Tris impatient. She was eyeing the far door almost murderously, and did not appear to be in any kind of mood to brook delay. After a moment, Sandry nodded, and everyone but Briar made move to keep going.

During this brief exchange, the cruel woman had not been idle. Rushing forward to take Briar's place next to Sandry, Pasco could feel the tingle of a spell as they moved forward.

"She's building a blocking wall," Sandry said, but didn't stop moving. She glanced sidelong at Pasco meaningfully.

Pasco just laughed a little. "No problem," he said. A simple sidestep, followed by a hop with a three-quarter twist to the right...

"It's gone," Sandry confirmed satisfactorily. Pasco just grinned at the woman's dumbfounded expression, as they rushed past her. He and Sandry had worked out how to disable a blocking wall a couple months back, which was a favorite means for kidnappers to ensnare their intended hostages.

Pasco was feeling rather good about their chances as they continued on their way. He'd disabled the blocking wall with very little effort, Briar seemed confident of dealing with the cruel woman, and Tris seemed confident of dealing with Haman.

It wasn't until he'd been feeling smug for two or three more corridors that he realized Evvy was no longer with them.

:-:-:

Briar stood, cross-armed, staring across the room at his opponent, who stared right back. While he waited, he entertained fantasies about the two of them just staring at each other until she fell over unconscious. That wouldn't likely happen, but he certainly wasn't going to make the first move. The more time he kept her here and away from Sandry and the others, the better.

"I underestimated you the last time, boy," she said at last. "Rest assured that will not happen again."

"Well, that's good to hear," he retorted. He could see the glow of her magic focusing around the middle of her body. Unfortunately, he had no idea exactly what she was planning. Something spectacular, clearly, for she just kept gathering it and gathering it. Enough to where even Briar began to get nervous.

_Maybe I should initiate something_. As it was in the dungeons downstairs, Briar's magic was not at it's most optimal in this setting. There were a few potted ferns and flowers scattered around, and he smiled when he took note of crawling ivy just outside the window. Well, two could play at that game. He stretched out with his magic, gratefully gathering the energy he needed from his green friends.

Finally the woman seemed to have adequately prepared herself. She gave a very pleased smile, and neat as a pin, threw her magic not at Briar, but behind him. He gave a reflexive duck, and then a surprised start when he heard a squeal of surprise coming from the area of his opponent's attack. Whirling around, he found a sight that made him nearly groan with frustration.

Evvy. He should have known she'd stay behind. He felt like kicking himself. The woman had her in the tightest spell he'd ever seen, like ropes binding her from head to toe. The glare of light coming from her was so bright in his eyes, that he could barely tell it was indeed Evvy.

"Now I have you effectively handicapped, I think," said the woman smugly. Briar turned back and noted that she still had a great reservoir of power yet left. "Now," she continued. "You're going to do exactly as I tell you, or I'll hurt the child, and don't think I'll have any qualms about doing so."

Briar didn't doubt it in the slightest.

:-:-:

It took Daja a considerably long time to reach the Citadel. Her first inclination, upon arrival, was to rush straight to the aide of her friends, but her services ended up being needed elsewhere.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Blennam? Both Mage Briar and Her Excellency were framed. You work in the justice system, you should know it happens sometimes."

Morer Penmic was standing in the middle of a practice courtyard, the early morning sunshine doing nothing to warm and soften the tension that was evident the moment Daja set foot within. Around him were two dozen or so guards, several groups of servants, and even a couple harriers, all listening attentively. Some were bristling defensively, others looked only frightened.

"He be a truthsayer, Penmic. Ye do realize that don' ye? A truthsayer. And he say the boy be guilty."

"Even a truthsayer can lie, Will. Use your common sense. How long have you known Duchess Sandrilene? Has she ever given you any reason not to trust her?"

"Maybe she be greedy for the throne, eh?" Will challenged back, but his face looked doubtful.

Penmic only sighed, and shook his head sadly. Daja could well understand his frustration. If these people were bound and determined not to believe the truth, there was very little that could possibly persuade them, no matter how much common sense was involved.

Close by Daja, she saw a middle-aged woman slowly begin to slink away from where she stood on the edges of the small crowd. The woman looked around with a guilty face and began to wipe her hands on her apron nervously. She started to head for the door, but Daja reached out one sinewy arm and stopped her.

"I wouldn't go anywhere, if I were you," she advised, not unkindly. "Haman's a little preoccupied just now, trust me. Or if he's not, he will be shortly. You'd be walking into a war zone." The woman's eyes widened in unspeakable panic. She gulped, and gave a frightened glance to Daja's arm holding her own in a gentle but unbreakable grip. "Was that where you were going?" Daja asked. "To tell Haman what was happening here?" The woman nodded mutely. "Why?" Daja prodded.

The woman's eyes flicked quickly around the corridor. "I be scared, miss. This man, he be stirring up trouble. What if truthsayer Haman find out about us listening? He could punish us awful bad for listening to treasonous words, miss. He be a justice man, begging your pardon."

Daja felt a little sick to her stomach, and she thought she began to understand why the people were so afraid to believe Penmic. If what he said was true, than Haman was no better than a liar and a deceiver. If it was true, they were in danger from his punishment or his persecution. If it wasn't true, and Haman was, as they hoped, an honest man, then they wanted to be on the good side.

Daja stepped forward, letting the woman's arm go. "Stay here, just for a few minutes," she entreated the woman, who nodded tentatively. Then Daja called, in her loudest voice, "Listen to me, everyone!" Unfortunately, only about half of the people, who were all arguing and bickering between themselves seemed to have heard her. She grunted a little in annoyance, wishing she had Sandry or Tris's knack for commanding the attention of the room.

Luckily, Penmic was one of the people who heard her. "Mage Daja!" he cried happily, and jumped down off the box where he'd been standing, rushed over to her, pulled her by the arm to the center of the courtyard and practically shoved her up above the crowd in his place. "Be quiet, everyone!" he called, and instantly a hush fell over the crowd, who all turned to stare at the pair of them in newfound curiosity.

"That's a very handy talent," Daja murmured to no one in particular.

"This is the good friend of Mage Briar and Duchess Sandrilene," Penmic explained to the now much quieter crowd. "She will have news from Winding Circle." Then he looked up and gave her an encouraging nod.

Daja swallowed. "Yes," she confirmed, "I've just arrived in harbor with the temple's fleet, who came to defend the city against the attack by the merchant guild. I have also seen proof," she added, her voice growing in strength and confidence with each word, "that is, personal correspondence from Truthsayer Haman which proves his guilt in his own hand. This letter is even now in the care of Honored Moonstream of Winding Circle.

"Master Haman has been planning a coupe of Summersea for quite some time, and he's colluded with the Merchants to make his coupe successful. We now believe that he is also directly responsible for the murder of the Duke, and had planned on murdering his niece as well." There was a gasp from the crowd at this.

"What about the plant boy's magic?" called one man, still clinging stubbornly to the story he'd been fed for almost a week now.

"Magic can be stolen, everyone knows that," Daja replied with full confidence. She felt a small thrill go through her as she saw more and more hopeful faces and nodding heads throughout the crowd.

"But he's a truthsayer, and he said the plant mage did it!" another voice called, and Daja resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Couldn't these people think outside the box for even a second?

She looked at Penmic. "Haman of Lightsbridge is a liar," she said. "He's a liar and a murderer, and we need your help to stop him and those who helped him."

"What is the meaning of this?" came a new voice, an indignant, bellowing voice. Daja whipped around to see a tall, portly man, finely dressed, entering the courtyard from the far end. He was beet red, no doubt from both his anger and the fact that he was dressed far too warmly for such a bright morning. "I don't remember it being a holiday today."

"An impromptu holiday, of sorts, your lordship," Penmic said, tugging Daja back down off the box and nudging her over to the tall man. "The city is in chaos, as you've seen, sir. Frankly, I'm surprised you made it here."

"Indeed, and who might you be?"

Penmic bowed slightly at the waist. "Forgive me, my lord. Morer Penmic, Captain of her Eminence's guard. This is Mage Daja Kisubo of Winding Circle Temple. Daja, this is Count Farinte. He was to be regent."

"I am regent," the man declared. "And this girl is entirely too young to be a mage."

Penmic started to speak up, but Daja beat him to it. "I am not too young to be a mage," she told him firmly, already digging under her tunic for her medallion of accreditation. "And you'll forgive me, my lord," she added as she showed it to him, "but you are not regent. Lady Sandrilene is innocent of the charges laid upon her."

The man sniffed carefully, looking very interested in this news. He suddenly seemed a lot less blustery than he had a moment before. "I'd like to believe you," he said at last in a lofty manner, "but I would need some proof better than your word."

Daja sighed. It was looking more and more as if she was not going to be able to help her friends after all. "Very well," she agreed. "If you'd be so kind as to accompany the Captain and I back to the harbor. Honored Moonstream will be happy to provide you with all the proof you need."

:-:-:

Sandry would never have believed in a thousand years that Haman would have kept his person so defenseless when they finally found him, but she'd learned to adapt quickly to surprises. Apparently, he really was that arrogant.

They burst into the room, to find him sitting at her desk, her desk, signing documents as if it was a Moons Day morning in winter and there was nothing more exciting to do. He was on his feet in a flash, and his eyes widened in growing shock as he took in the sight of Tris, Keth, Pasco, Paloma, and finally Sandry, storming in and descending upon him.

"You!" he shouted, enraged, his gaze settling on Sandry. "You are not supposed to be here. You're no better than a common criminal."

"Spare the facade," snapped Tris, storming right up to his desk and glaring at him. Perhaps because he was still sitting, he looked incredibly dwarfed in her presence. "We've got Paloma, and we know everything. You, I presume, are this Haman person who has utterly ruined my homecoming?" she demanded.

Haman's eyes were suddenly alight with greed. "Ah. Trisana, House Chandler, certified weather mage of Winding Circle. I might have known," he muttered and a devious smile overcame his long face. His eyes flicked briefly to Paloma.

Suddenly realizing what he was about to attempt, Sandry shouted, "Tris, watch out!"

But she was too late. Whatever it was that Haman did to steal portions of other people's magic, he'd clearly gotten it off in time. Only the process wasn't a smooth-looking as it she imagined it'd be.

_Something's gone wrong,_ she realized. _If this happened every time he tried it, he'd never have been able to keep all this a secret._

Haman and Tris were locked in a strange picture, as if the spell had been flash-frozen mid-magic. Haman's hand was outstretched toward Tris, and there was an expression of intense pain and horror on his face. Tris was floating a foot off the ground, her braids sticking out from her head in a hundred directions, and her face was also full of pain, but also of determination. A pale light seemed to radiate from nowhere and encompass the two of them.

_Perhaps my warning was in time after all_ Sandry realized. _She's trying to push the spell back at him./_

The light suddenly intensified, and there was a loud gasping cry from Tris. Then Haman gave a cry of pain and the light vanished. Tris crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Tris!" cried Keth, and rushed to her side, pulling her head and torso into his arms to examine her more closely.

"She's alive, Keth," Sandry assured him, keeping a wary eye on Haman. He seemed weakened, somehow, but he was still alert. "I'd know if she was dead. She's just knocked out."

"In that case," said Keth, "she'll be out for days. She's been using entirely too much magic in the last few days." He was doing his best to sound annoyed, but his relief was clear. "What happened?"

"My guess is that Master Haman here bit got a little too greedy for his own good," said Sandry smoothly. "There aren't many who can handle Tris's power. Even she had trouble handling it at times."

Haman made another sudden hand motion. There was a sudden, painful snapping sound, and Pasco cried out in horrified pain. Clearly Haman had attacked him with something.

"My leg is broken," he told Sandry, and she cursed herself. Haman had been watching her the whole time, she'd assumed any attack he made would be in her direction.

"Scum-suckers," she said, echoing what she'd heard Briar swear from the previous room.

She threw out several strands of magic, causing the rug under Haman's feet to come scooting out from under him with uncanny speed, but he was surprisingly spry for a man his age. He jumped away, and regained his balance, smirking a little. "You'll have to do better than that, Duchess"

"Oh, believe me," she replied calmly, "I'll do my best." As she'd done so long ago, when the royal guards had tried to keep her from her uncle after his heart attack, she seized the tapestries along the wall, and in mere seconds, they were a writhing sea of loose threads, ready to answer her call.

This time, however, she felt them resisting with confusion, and she quickly realized why. Haman had her magic, and he was using it against her. Once again she felt exposed and dirty, and she hated him more than ever.

She remembered Paloma's words, that Haman couldn't use more than one person's stolen magic at a time. If she could somehow hold him at bay this way, forced to use her magic to defend against her magic, it would give Keth time to figure out what to do about him.

One advantage Haman did not have over Sandry, however, was the rare ability to see magic. So he did not see, as she did, the very clear and very strong thread that was tied between him and Paloma. Sandry narrowed her eyes. If there was anything she understood, it was threads.

:-:-:

Through the bond, Briar felt Tris fade. For half a heartbeat he was afraid that she was dead, but knew had she been so, Sandry would surely have let him know. Besides, instinctively he knew that when one of them died, the other three would be in no doubts, no matter the distance.

He had his own problems just now. Evvy was still bound in a cocoon of magic so impenetrable that breaking through it was like trying to pierce a seashell with a needle. Clearly this was one of his opponent's strongest magical skills. His best choice, therefore, would be to somehow dismantle it by dealing with the spellmaker herself.

The ivy just outside the window began to grow. The warmth of the summer sun and the fertile soil several dozen feet below the window made the task all the easier. He did it slowly, coaxing the vines with persuasion and need, and below the casement they began to gather and coil, ready to spring.

While he worked, he talked to her. Distraction was one of his few potential aces, just now. "Since we seem to be at an impasse," he began. "Perhaps you'd consider telling me your name, kaq. You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"I hardly think this is an impasse," she replied. "I have the advantage over you, and you are not the type to sit idly by, I think. But I might as well humor you. My name is Anise val Vaawn, and I am a proud mage of Lightsbridge Acadamy. And you and your people are a disgrace to the name of magic."

"My people?" Briar repeated. "Street people, you mean?"

"Well, there is that. A common thief like you should have been to the block long ago. Don't think I don't know what those abominable marks on your hands are hiding."

"Only a past that not everyone could forgive," he said. "I didn't like to make people uncomfortable. You, on the other hand, could do with some pointers on what is and is not worthy of shame."

Just then, the coil of vines sprung into the room, instantly shooting for Anise and binding her as tightly as she'd bound Evvy. But it was not enough. She only laughed, and from across the room, there came a muffled screech of intensive pain. Briar turned to see Evvy's face a barely-visible mask of pain which she could hardly voice.

"I wouldn't squeeze any harder if I were you, Briar Moss," Anise said. "It's partly a mirror spell. Whatever you do to me, you do to her, only to a degree far more intense."

Briar seethed. "That's forbidden magic. You think thievery is bad? At least we were given two chances of repentance. You won't even be given one, after this."

He eased up on the vines. They slid away from Anise to the floor, but they did not relax.

_Sandry? _

Her reply was delayed, and he winced. Clearly, she was distracted. _What is it?_ she finally asked, sounding most distant.

_If you should get a chance any time soon, I might need some help. _

:-:-:

During Daja's brief time away from the harbor, Lark, Frostpine and the others had not been idle. The prison of winds and lightning that Tris and Keth had used to trap the merchants' ships seemed to not have taken long to subside- long enough for the mages to take over holding them at bay. The harbor water was full of debris and rowboats, all full of errant merchants, all looking a little worse for wear.

Daja spotted Moonstream standing on one of the few docks still standing intact after the battle, speaking with Rosethorn and a couple of very guilty-looking merchants. Daja wondered how the men were being constrained.

"Mage Daja," Moonstream greeted her with surprise, "I thought you would have been up at the Citadel by now. We were trying to get this wrapped up so we could come to your assistance."

"I did make it to the Citadel," Daja said wryly, "but I keep getting sidetracked." She jerked her head in the direction of Penmic and Count Farinte, who to their credit, both gave respectful gestures to Moonstream. "This is Sandry's Captain, Morer Penmic, and this is the would-be regent, Count Farinte. He is seeking proof of my assurances of Sandry's innocence."

"Convenient," said Moonstream. "We were just discussing that, as a matter of fact." She gestured at the two men standing nearby. "Daja, this is Master Eryil Chandler, and his skipper, Wes Mantruii."

Daja raised an eyebrow. "Chandler?" she repeated, meaningfully, sending the man an appraising glance. He looked a little sheepish.

Rosethorn laughed. "Yes, they're related," she said, answering the unspoken question. "This is Trisana's uncle, poor girl."

"Indeed," Daja commented, intrigued. "And what do the merchants have to say for themselves, Master Chandler?"

He turned cowardly eyes to Moostream. "Honestly, Your Honor, we believed the Duchess to be guilty, and her friend as well."

"That didn't stop you from making your ridiculous siege, even before Her Eminence was accused of conspiracy," Rosethorn retorted.

"It seems," interjected Moonstream smoothly, "that very few of the merchants' guild were part of the plot between Haman and their leader. They have a genuine argument for ignorance in these matters, though how the Duchess chooses to handle their fate is not my place to say."

Chandler gulped, visibly paling. Daja rubbed her hands on her arms impatiently. "Honored Moonstream, do you still have the letter Evvy found from Haman? I believe it is proof sufficient enough to satisfy the good count's doubts."

"Of course," Moonstream agreed, reaching neatly into a pocket tucked in the inside of her voluminous sleeve and pulling out the now-familiar scrap of parchment. "I hope it will be proof enough for everyone, though I daresay after today's events, we may not even need it."

"I'm sure Evvy would be annoyed about that," said Lark with a smile. "She likes to be useful."

As Farinte read over the letter, his face betrayed ever-increasing shock. "But this is a scandal," he huffed. "A disgrace of the highest levels. My lady Sandrilene must be freed at once."

Daja smiled. "Don't worry about that sir, Sandry is already free." With a concerned frown, she glanced over her shoulder toward the Citadel, where she could still feel her friends deep in battle. She was afraid for them, wishing that circumstances did not keep pushing her away. "Whether she is safe is another matter entirely."

:-:-:

Sandry felt as though invisible forces were trying to tear her into two pieces. She desperately longed to rush to Briar's aide. There was almost nothing more important to her than what Briar needed. And yet there was Haman to be dealt with. Her duty as a mage and the leader of these people demanded she be here to fight him as well. The glaring thread of magic that bound him to Paloma still pulsed and writhed before her, taunting her.

_I will be there as soon as I can,_ she assured Briar. It was heart wrenching to say it, but she could not very well abandon these people who could use her help. _I just have a little snipping work to do, that's all. At least I hope so._

She didn't like the feel of the magic in Haman's thread. It was harsh and uninviting, and made her faintly unsettled. She wondered how Paloma had survived bearing it for so long. No doubt she was unaccustomed to anything else. She wanted to destroy it, but she wasn't sure she had the power to do so alone.

"So tell me," she said, addressing Haman directly, hoping to buy herself time to think, "how long have you been stealing this poor girl's magic?"

"I am no thief, Sandrilene," he said cooly. "Paloma was an orphan. She had no one. No home, no family. I took her in, gave her shelter. It seemed a fair bargain."

"Only when you realized her potential," Sandry spat back at him. She began pacing, hoping to distract him, while she began to probe the thread with her magic, gauging the feel of it, searching for weaknesses. It was a repulsive task, only slightly less disgusting than had been working with the unmagic. "Last I checked, a bargain implies a mutual agreement between two parties. I hardly call what you've got here as a bargain."

Keth was standing a little to her left, looking uncertain, but alert. Tris had given her and Briar a summary of her history with Keth and his abilities on their way up to the Citadel. She was dying to ask him the particulars of his magic- how and when he could use it, what sort of control he had mastered. She could hardly know how they could help one another without understanding his capabilities, and it wasn't exactly an opportune moment for learning.

The thread of magic was more than just a thread. It was a strong chord, almost as complex and layered as a rope. She would not just be able to slice through it neatly with a snip of her magic- not without Haman catching on to her devices. What she needed was more of an axe, or a fire...

_Daja? _

_I'm on my way, Sandry, I promise. I keep getting sidetracked. _

_No time for that, I need you now. I need you to forge me a strong sword, so sharp it would slice off your finger before you felt the pain. _

_I'm a long way from the forge, Sandry. _

Sandry smiled, and tried pulling the rug out from under Haman's feet, which caused him to laugh as he in turn flung the rug back towards the corner where Pasco was still holding his broken leg and looking little green. She needed to deceive Haman with this false battlefront while she set her plan in motion. _Not a real sword, Daja,_ she clarified, _a sword of your magic. Like the box you made during the earthquake. I need to cut a chord. _She could almost feel comprehension rippling from Daja.

_One moment, Sandry._

"You are beginning to tire me with this pathetic attempts to contain me, Duchess," Haman sneered. He was still beaming a little at his apparent success in thwarting her rug attack.

At that moment, a large, gleaming something came whizzing from the direction where Keth was standing, and Sandry spared him a glance long enough to see his hand extended– clearly whatever it was had been something he'd just thrown. Her eyes darted back to Haman in time to see a thick glass ball, about the size of her two balled fists together, roll to a perfect stop under Haman's feet. For half a heartbeat, Haman stared at it in confusion, until with a blinding blaze, the ball began to zap and spark.

Sandry goggled. The ball was electrocuting him! Haman began emitting small yelps of surprised pain, and his robes caught on fire. He began dancing in spot frantically, and she was almost compelled to giggle, had she not known he wouldn't be distracted for long.

_How does it go, Daja?_ she took the opportunity to ask.

_Just a few seconds more. _

Turning her attention back to the scene before her, Sandry noted something most fascinating was happening. The distasteful chord of magic seemed to be acting as a conductor for Keth's lightning, which she found both intriguing and a little scary. It didn't seem to be getting very far– she doubted anyone but she would even notice. But how, if at all, would they affect the magic she was going to try to do? Could it hurt her? Would it have any bearing on Paloma or even Daja?

On second thought, how could she be sure that this plan wouldn't hurt Paloma to begin with, elements of lightning aside altogether? Sandry bit her lip, suddenly worried. It could come as quite a shock. Who was to say how deeply ingrained the magic was to Paloma's being?

She took another look at the chord. She loathed and hated it. It was a festering thing- wrong. Surely attempting this could only be good for Paloma.

_Sandry, your sword is ready. _

Sandry sighed, making up her mind. She was going to risk it. It was just a question of when. She could still feel a slight pull of Briar's worry in the back of her mind, and she was starting to feel desperate. _On my signal, Daja,_ Sandry called, whipping a thread of magic in the direction of her friend just as if Daja were standing beside her and they were joining hands. _Strike where I guide you. _

_I am ready. _

Sandry took in the scene before her. Pasco, hurt but brave, Keth, another lightning ball ready in his hand, on the balls of his feet, preparing to fire again. Paloma was standing very still, watching Haman with wide, frightened eyes, and Haman had just succeeded in getting his robes free of flame. He looked up–

"Now!" Sandry shouted, both in her mind and aloud. Perhaps she shouldn't have shouted aloud, for Keth took this as a signal to throw his lightning ball. It reached Haman just at the instant when Daja's sword struck the chord, and several things happened at once.

The chord of magic was shorn clean, and with a brilliance that nearly forced Sandry to shield her eyes, the stream of magic swooped back into Paloma with a dizzying speed. Paloma cried aloud, jumped back, breathing very hard, almost frantically. Sandry noted that her hair was standing slightly on end.

The lightning had seemed stronger this time. If magic acted as a conductor for Keth's lightning, than no doubt the very powerful surge of magic coming from both Daja and Sandry in that instant has made it go berserk. Haman didn't burst into flame this time, but he did give a very painful cry. Then, without warning he slumped to the floor, unconscious. For half a heartbeat, it was eerily quiet.

"Is he dead?" Pasco asked at last.

Sandry rushed over to Haman's prone form and peered down at it. "Would the lightning kill him?" she asked Keth, who also made his way over.

"Not the way I designed it the spell," he replied, with utter confidence. "But something happened to the lightning this time. Something pushed it away. I don't think the lightning has anything to do with this." He waved a hand at Haman.

"What are you saying?" Sandry asked.

"I'm saying, I don't think it touched him, my lady."

"He must be unconscious because I broke the magical bond," Sandry murmured, almost to herself. "But where did the lightning go?"

As if in answer, there was a loud zap from somewhere behind them, and they turned to see a very pale, trembling Paloma, dark hair now standing completely on end around her face, holding her hand up in wonder.

Sandry ran to her, afraid to touch her. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Paloma blinked. "It's gone," she said, still staring at her hand. "The lightning is gone from me." She glanced at Keth. "I don't know how I know that, though." She looked at Sandry. "I feel strange, Duchess. Like I'm stuffed to bursting after a big meal. Everything seems... more intense, somehow. Sharper."

"You've got your magic back, I think," Sandry said, still not entirely sure how this was going to affect Paloma. "I found a link, tying you to Haman. Daja helped me destroy it."

Daja! She'd almost totally forgotten. _Daja, are you all right? _

_I'm fine; what did you do?_ came her amazed voice, full of trepidation.

_I think I helped,_ Sandry offered timidly, not entirely convinced of herself. _I'll have to explain later. Master Haman seems to be contained, for the moment. _

"I think you're right, Duchess Sandrilene," Paloma whispered. "It hurts a little bit, but I think you're right about my magic. I feel sort of... right, almost."

Sandry nodded, feeling a little better. She turned to Keth. "Go find a healer mage, if you can. Pasco will need help, and probably Tris as well. Go back to the harbor– there are a great many mages assembled there."

With a brisk nod, Keth turned heel and sprinted out of the room. Sandry turned back to Paloma. "I need to go help Briar," she said, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Stay here with Pasco. Meditate. It will help you get a better grip on your power. Someone should be along to help you shortly."

Paloma nodded. "Yes, Duchess Sandrilene," she said obediently.

After that, Sandry wasted no time in scurrying off. _I'm on my way, Briar._

:-:-:

Briar would not have been able to express with words his relief when Sandry assured him she was coming. He'd never been in such a pickle in his life. Any magic he threw at Anise seemed to effect her, true, but it also seemed to effect Evvy, only worse. He was now reduced to using his magic only to counter any spells she threw at him, and he was ready to scream with frustration and worry.

There was the possibility of going after her with his street skills, of course, a possibility he hadn't yet tried. He had no idea if a non-magical attack would affect Evvy the same way the magical attacks did.

Anise sent another spout of fire at him from her hands, which Briar ducked to miss, turning his ducking into a quick somersault to avoid yet another fireball. The fireballs spelled more trouble here in the upper levels of the Citadel than they had in the stone dungeons. Briar winced as one of the wall tapestries burst into flame, quickly followed by a part of the nearby rug.

He hoped Sandry would hurry. He could do nothing about the fires, but she would be able to. Another fireball. Briar leapt aside as the patch of rug below him began blazing.

_This will never do,_ he thought worriedly, watching as smoke began to fill the room. _Probably shouldn't wait for Sandry after all._

He'd felt the connection when Sandry had used Daja's magic just a few minutes ago. It seemed that now would be a good time to follow suit.

_Daj, I need to douse a couple blazes. Could you lend a hand? _

_You know,_ came her wry reply, _I don't know why I'm bothering to try and reach you guys. It seems if I just sit down and work from where I am, I might be more effective._

Briar grinned. _Works for me,_ he replied, just as he felt the uncomfortably warm glow he associated with Daja's power tingle through his senses. Without hesitation, he held out his hand to each growing fire in turn, absorbing it's energy and channeling it into his magical bond with Daja. He gritted his teeth, focusing on keeping the energy flowing, afraid that if it stopped for even an instant, it would consume him from the inside out.

When at last the fires had subsided, Briar broke the link, taking a relieved breath when the heat left his body.

"Impressive," Anise noted.

"You'll find I'm full of surprises," he sneered. He didn't give her time to reply, but lunged for her with a speed that prevented any defense on her part. Before she even had time to cry out, he had her arm pinned painfully behind her back, twisting it for all it was worth. She emitted a strangled sound of pain, and Briar looked up at Evvy, just in time to see her small face screwed up in a excruciated expression. Growling, he released Anise and darted away from her.

Anise only laughed and cradled her sore arm. "I'm afraid there's no way around it, street brat," she said. "You can't hurt me." A twisted look of delight came over her face. "And now I'm done playing. I'm going to rid the world of your scum."

She seized a talisman on a cord around her neck, muttered a couple of words that Briar didn't like the sound of, and instantly his whole body was a writhing mass of tortured tissue. Pain such as he'd never before experience, coursed through him as his body hit the charred rug beneath his feet. He couldn't even put it into words.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of running footsteps, a loud, frantic cry of surprise, and suddenly the pain ceased. His breath was loud in his ears. Then he felt a gentle sensation on his face– small hands, accompanied by the sound of a sweet voice.

"Briar! Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

He opened his eyes. "Sandry," he murmured, in spite of himself, fumbling for her hand. "You're here."

:-:-:

Paloma hadn't been around hurt people very much in her lifetime, so she had no idea what to do for Pasco while they waited for a healer. He assured her that it was best he just stayed still, and she was only too happy to comply.

"Sandry said you should meditate," he said, wincing a little. "We could do it together. It will help me relax a little."

"Okay," Paloma said, grateful they had such a commission with which to occupy themselves. She sat down cross-legged beside Pasco, trying not to look too closely at his leg, which was set at an angle that made her stomach rather woozy.

It was not difficult to fall into the meditative breathing pattern, and she was amazed how quickly she felt better. The duchess had been right. She instantly felt her power begin to become more manageable. Before she'd thought she was going to explode with the strange feeling of it.

True to his prediction, Pasco too seemed to benefit from the meditation, and as they breathed together, Paloma began to notice something odd. She could feel Pasco's magic, like a tangible thing. She realized she instinctively knew how to just reach out and pluck some of it away from him, as if she were picking up a thimble or an apple from a tabletop.

_Meditating with someone seems to be one of the ways to absorb their magic,_ she realized, thinking of the first dancing fiasco in which she'd put everybody to sleep after meditating with Pasco, or the quilt incident after meditating with Duchess Sandrilene. The realization was impassive. She still was not very happy with the nature of her magic. She was sure no other mage would ever trust her, when they learned what she was.

They had been meditating for perhaps ten minutes or so, when they were interrupted by the sound of feeble coughing from across the room. Paloma opened her eyes and turned around curiously, wondering if perhaps Mage Trisana had recovered and was waking up. What she saw sent panicked chills down her spine.

It was not Mage Trisana that was waking up. It was Haman.

:-:-:

With Sandry's help, Briar pulled up into a sitting position. He watched as her pretty blue eyes narrowed in anger upon Anise. He could feel her power building in side her...

"No!" he cried, seizing her arm to stop her. "You can't hurt her directly, you'll hurt Evvy as well." At his words, Anise smiled smugly.

Sandry peered closely at the flow of magic between Anise and Evvy, and her eyes narrowed even more. She sprang to her feet. "You wretched woman," she spat. "The likes of you and Haman say that our kind should not exist, yet you dabble in the darkest of magical arts. I saw the spell you were using on Briar when I came in."

"Truthfully, my dear Duchess, I do not give a rat's tail if any of you have ambient magic or not, save that your power is a threat to my own ambitions, and must therefore be eradicated. It is Haman and others who are such zealous believers in their own purity."

"Haman is vanquished," Sandry said, raising her chin as she was wont to do when displaying her authority. "As soon shall you be."

"Is that so? It matters little. That's one less obstacle in my path, then. I want the city for my own, and with your help, I shall have it."

Sandry gave a snort that was decidedly unladylike. "Highly unlikely. Even if you succeed in destroying the three of us, the entire city is now swarming with Winding Circle mages. By this time the truth of Haman's plotting will be making its way through the streets, and the whole city will know you helped him. You've already lost, madam, so I suggest you yield."

Anise gave a furious snarl, twisted her hand, and suddenly Sandry arched back with a gasp of pain, falling to her knees, clearly suffering from whatever Anise had just done to Briar. Hardly thinking, Briar opened his link to Sandry, pulling the spell into himself through their bond. He remembered a fascinating weed he and Rosethorn had seen on the way to Chumar, which was actually carnivorous, and fed off insects by luring them near and trapping them with spines. He imagined himself to be the fly trap, closing himself around the evil spell and dissipating its effects, absorbing its energy into himself as the fly trap used the insect for nutrition.

Sandry lay gasping on the floor. _Thank you,_ she told him. _Briar, I'm going to try something. _

_What? _

_The mirror spell. I can't break it, but– _

_Yes? _

_I can reverse it, Briar. Quite easily. Reversal is inherent in the nature of the spell. I can reverse it and strengthen it. But then I must ask something unpleasant of you. _

_What is it?_ he asked, warily, though he feared he could anticipate the answer.

_I have to maintain the reversal. While I hold it, you'll have to hurt Evvy, somehow. Not much, I don't think, but something strong enough to make– _

_Anise. _

– _Anise break the spell. _

Briar gulped and closed his eyes. Then he opened them and glanced at Evvy. The worst part was that they couldn't warn her. He shared no mind-to-mind bond with her. _Very well._ He could see it was a sound plan.

_I'm sorry, I can't think of anything else that might work. The spell is very strong. _

_Trust me, I know,_ he said bitterly.

Sandry struggled to a sitting position and fixed a furious glare on Anise. Then she smiled at the other woman in a very smug, very condescending, very royal way, and Briar couldn't help but feel smug himself. Anise had no idea who she was messing with.

_Ready, Briar?_ she asked.

_Ready. _

_Okay, NOW!. _

Briar sprang to his feet over to Evvy. When he reached her, he took a look at the magic binding Anise to Evvy, and was pleased to see that, like a writhing stormcloud in a strong gale, it was churning steadily around backwards. As for Sandry, she was a bright beacon of concentrated effort, eyes closed tightly, hands held out before her. As soon as he could sense that the spell had completely reversed he dared to reach out for Evvy.

He had decided to try and do his part by physical means instead of magical. Years of street-fighting had left him with a solid knowledge of just how much harm the human body could withstand. He could only hope he could adjust that knowledge properly to Evvy's limits. It seemed a far safer course of action than any magical means.

He took her arm and twisted it behind her back, locking it in place as he would if trying to restrain a wrestling opponent. It felt wrong and strange, though, to be doing this to her, not only because he loved her so much, but because she had no way to defend herself. "I'm sorry, Evvy," he whispered. Then he twisted hard.

He was almost shocked at how swift and loud was the resounding snap from across the room. Anise screamed, and Evvy gave a muffled squeal. Briar blinked. Just how powerfully had Sandry amplified the spell's effects? He frowned, and twisted Evvy's other arm, less intensely than he had before. Another snap. Clearly it wasn't going to take much. He gave a grim smile.

He wrapped his arms around Evvy's body completely and slowly began arching them both backwards, straining her spine and back muscles in a way that must have been excessively uncomfortable. Anise's screams became unbearable, sending chills through him, but he did not yield.

At last, there was a final, sickening snap, and Briar immediately released Evvy, watching in satisfaction as all signs of Anise's power suddenly evaporated, and her body fell with a slump to the ground. She was quite clearly dead, her spine snapped backwards like a bean husk.

Briar let out a relieved sigh, then crushed Evvy in a deep hug. She gave a sob and clung to him tightly in return. He held on only for a moment, before releasing her and giving her a sound cuff on the head.

"Why can't you ever just do as you're told?" he roared, his relief and joy suddenly changing to a mentor's frustrated anger.

Evvy looked properly shamed. She hung her head, staring at her bare, scuffed feet as if hoping the floor beneath them would swallow her up. "I'm sorry, Pahan Briar," she said in a very small voice.

"Go find Pasco and Paloma. They're– " he looked at Sandry for help.

"They're in the north study, meditating," she said, pointing in the appropriate direction.

"I'll deal with you later," Briar said. "You could do with a bit of meditating yourself. Now get. Sandry and I have more to do."

Evvy nodded, and scampered off as quickly as possible, no doubt to prove to Briar a newfound sense of quick obedience.

He let out a long, wavering sigh as he watched her leave, shaking his head. Then he looked over at Sandry. "Thank you," he whispered.

She ran to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, taking profound delight in the smell of her hair, as she laid her head on his shoulder. How nicely she fit here.

"I'm so glad this is finally over," she said at last.

"So am I," he whispered. "So am I."

:-:-:

Paloma could not have put into words the panic and fear shunting through her. "Master Haman," she whispered. The fact was that it was only she and Pasco here, all alone, with one of the most powerful mages in the land. Her first inclination was just to run away, but if Haman intended ill against her, running wouldn't get her very far.

Besides, Pasco couldn't run, and she most certainly wasn't about to leave him alone.

"Where are your great defenders now, you traitorous, ungrateful brat?" he snarled, straightening to his full height.

She quailed, and scooted back further towards Pasco. "They're off fighting," she offered timidly.

"Leaving you alone with me?" he laughed. "I told you they were not to be trusted, didn't I?"

Paloma got to her feet, wondering if perhaps she stood up, she might be able to protect Pasco better. "I still trust them," she offered, voice quavering. She couldn't remember ever having been so afraid.

"I wonder," said Haman, fingering the glass medallion she knew he used to house his ready-spells. "I wonder what Duchess Sandrilene fa Toren would offer as ransom for her prized student."

"No!" Paloma shouted.

At that moment, she was also surprised to hear Pasco shout. "Arabesque, Paloma. An arabesque!"

The strange command seemed to shake her. Her head did not understand the order, but her feet nonetheless complied. He had an uncanny knack for making his dance commands sound exactly like Mistress Linden's, from the dance academy.

When she'd turned out of the arabesque she goggled at the sight that met her eyes. There, hovering five feet above the ground and thrashing wildly in midair was Haman. She looked amazedly at Pasco. He grinned. "I can't dance, but you can," he said. "And you said your magic wasn't good for anything."

She marveled, and slowly a pleased smile began creeping onto her face. "What next?" she asked, eagerly.

"Namorn step dance," he said, but she did not have time to execute the suggestion, for Haman had given up on trying to get down and was instead muttering a spell with his medallion. He aimed it at Paloma, but she was quicker than he, and dodged out of the way, so he turned it on Pasco instead.

"Pasco!" she shouted, as her friend's eyes suddenly rolled up into his head and his body visibly relaxed.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear," he told her. "I won't waste him yet. I may need him since dancing is the only talent you've perfected on your own."

"Why did you steal my magic?" she shouted at him. His behavior towards Pasco had given her a newfound, angry sort of courage.

"As I explained to that upstart little Duchess," said Haman, "it was only fair. You were nothing, you came from nothing. I gave you a respectable home and a decent life. It was only fair I used your power in exchange."

"Sandry was right, it wasn't fair! You lied to me. How can you dare speak to me about trust and honor? You told me all my life I was no mage, and all the while it was because I was a mage that you ever cared about me at all!"

"Ah, Paloma, you were such a good girl. Why did you turn on me so quickly?"

"Because I am a good girl and I know good when I see it. I don't ever want to see you or have anything to do with you ever again, Haman. And I hope you're locked away for a good long while."

"Well, good or no, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to let me down, now."

Paloma cocked her head. "Why should I?" she asked.

"Because, dear girl, I will make your existence decidedly unpleasant if you do not."

She considered. "You can't do anything to me," she finally said. "I'm the only one who can get you down. If you knock me senseless you'll be stuck here until one of the others arrive."

"I can hurt your friend," he said with a cold smile. He reached for the medallion, but they were both suddenly distracted by the sound of rushing feet. Paloma turned her head to see the plant mage's little scruffy student run panting into the room. She took in the scene before her in one glance, noted Pasco's prone form, and scowled.

"Oh, great," she said. "now what happened?"

"Pasco helped me dance him up there," Paloma explained, "then Pasco got knocked out, and now– "

"Look out!" Evvy shouted, and lunged at Paloma, knocking her out of the way in time to block another spell. Then they tumbled together sideways to block another. As they scrambled to dodge a series of what Paloma somehow recognized as stunning spells, obviously meant for Evvy, she felt a strange, new rush of power inside her. It felt cool, and steady, and she suddenly felt as if she could hear the stone floor beneath them humming with a kind of strange, deep resonance.

_The stone mage's magic,_ she realized with awe.

"Well," commented Evvy aloud, "at least he's in one place." They'd sheltered themselves in the doorway of the room, in the lee of Haman's line of sight, where he would not be able to see them.

"We've got to do something, or he'll hurt Pasco," Paloma urged her frantically.

"All right, all right, keep your shirt on," Evvy said. Paloma puzzled at this strange phrase, but did not inquire about it as she watched Evvy fumble for the mage's kit at her belt. "I've got something that might knock him out."

"A tiger eye again?" Paloma asked helpfully, remembering the incident with the cold lady and Mage Briar in the dungeons.

"Amethyst," came the reply. "Far more powerful."

"Then why didn't you use it before?"

"We didn't need it as badly before," said Evvy grimly. "So it's a good thing I saved it."

She pulled out a long, polished, purple stone and held it up, closing her eyes. Then she opened them again. "Blast," she muttered.

"What?"

"It's not working."

Haman had now clearly turned his attention on Pasco. Desperately, Paloma tried another arabesque, wondering what would happen. All it did was lift him higher in the air. This was, fortunately, enough to disrupt whatever harm he'd been planning towards Pasco, but she couldn't keep pushing him up forever. His head was only inches from the ceiling now as it was.

"Why isn't it working?" she hissed at Evvy.

"He must have some way to block it," was the girl's frowning reply. "What I need is a good jolt to surprise him."

"A jolt?" said a voice behind them. Both girls jumped and whirled around. "I might be able to help with that."

"Master Keth," said Paloma, in relief. "Did you not find a healer?"

"He's on his way, but I'm glad I got back when I did."

Paloma was considering his previous words. "I have an idea!" she cried. She held out her hand. "May I have the amethyst, Evvy?"

The smaller girl handed it over, uncertainly. Paloma took it, feeling the smooth, polished contours, and smiled appreciatively. It was clear why this was such a favorite of Evvy's. It had a soothing influence. "I can absorb other people's power, right?" she said excitedly. "I can feel your power, Evvy, and I've already felt Master Keth's." She reached out and grasped the taller man by the shoulder. "Yes, yes," she said excitedly. "I can only use one magic at a time, so I need your help, Master Keth. If I absorb Evvy's magic...and you channel your lightning magic through that... That should be jolt enough, don't you think?"

"I do think so," Evvy agreed. She eyed Haman uncertainly "Better make it quick, though."

Keth seemed to understand what she was asking of him, and nodded. Paloma turned in time to see Haman lifting Pasco slowly into the air opposite him, apparently using the same binding spell he'd used to trap Paloma and the others when he'd discovered them here at the Citadel.

Without hesitation, she utilized Evvy's power, holding the amethyst up high. "Now, Master Keth!" She could feel Evvy's power, deep and soothing, as she had previously noted. Keth's seemed to be crackling and swift, and as she held the amethyst up, he channeled his magic through it towards Haman.

The effect wasn't quite what she'd expected. Haman clearly had been shielding himself, just as Evvy had suggested, and at first the lighting coursed around him, not penetrating whatever shields were in place. When it couldn't register with its intended target, the lightning seemed to take on an almost rabid frenzy, and, to Paloma's horror, it began sucking all the magic it could find to give itself strength.

"Shoot," she muttered. She could feel it gaining strength, combining not only Evyy's, Keth's and her own power, but Pasco's as well, who was still bound to Haman by a spell. She also felt a strange magic in the mix, and realized that the Healer mage must have just arrived, and Healing magic was being sucked into this as well.

Finally, the lightning seemed to have achieved what it needed. With a brilliant flash, it pierced Haman's shell and broke the dance spell, dropping him with a loud crash to the floor. Then it sizzled and zapped outwards in all directions, before fizzling out into nothing.

"Ow!" shouted Evvy, and held her head. "What was that?"

_I know how that feels_, came a sympathetic voice.

Paloma blinked. Nobody had said that out loud.

She turned to Keth. "Did you say something?"

He frowned. "No."

"Yes, you did," Evvy grumbled, still rubbing her head. She looked up and glared at him. "You said you know how that feels. I heard you too."

"But I didn't," he said, confused.

Paloma was puzzled, but she had more immediate concerns. She stepped carefully into the room and peered down at Haman's prostrate form. "Is he dead?" she asked, wondering if she wished it to be so.

Keth knelt down and made a quick examination. "He'll live," he assured her.

_Though I rather wish he hadn't. _

Paloma and Evvy both gasped. "You did it again!" Evvy cried. "How'd you do that?"

Whatever had happened, Paloma decided not to worry about it for the moment. She was just relieved that Haman was once again subdued. It was really over this time.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Well, here we have it! The final chapter of the story. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. We hope you enjoyed it. We certainly had a lot of fun writing it.

So without further ado-the end. ;)

:-:-:

CHAPTER TWELVE

by Qwi-Xux and Sache8

"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourselves into," Sandry sighed. Seated in front of her were Pasco, Evvy, Paloma, Keth, and a Healer by the name of Windleaf. Haman had been moved to one of the magic-blocking cells in the dungeons, and Citadel guards were already working on restoring order and cleaning up in Summersea. Lark, Rosethorn, Frostpine, and the other mages of Winding Circle were helping clean up in the harbor. Word of Haman's plot and Sandry and Briar's innocence had spread through Emelan like a forest fire. People were calming down now that the attack on the harbor was over. Daja had gone to collect Little Bear, the little girl in Tris's care, and the dragon from the captain of the _Jaunty Sailor._ Tris was soundly asleep in one of the rooms in the Citadel. Briar was seated next to her, helping her manage the students and the Healer.

After hearing the account of what happened in the last battle, and looking at the magics of Pasco, Paloma, and Evvy, Sandry had realized that they had been twisted together. At first it had seemed that Keth's and Windleaf's magics were also involved, but closer inspection revealed that their magic had simply been twined around that of the younger students. Pasco, Paloma, and Evvy's magics, however, had actually melded_._ She had been able to untangle Keth and Windleaf's magics, which snapped back into them, but she wasn't sure there was anything she could do about Pasco, Paloma, and Evvy's.

"It looks like someone-and I'm guessing Paloma-was using both Evvy and Pasco's magics at the time this spell you mentioned went awry," Sandry told them. "But I thought you could only use one magic at a time?" she questioned, looking at Paloma.

"That's right...I was using Evvy's magic when the lightning went crazy...but I had used Pasco's magic just before that to dance Master Haman into the air," Paloma said.

"And the dance spell was still in effect when the magic went out of control?" Sandry asked.

"Yes," Paloma said.

"Ah. Well, that seems to explain it. Both Evvy's and Pasco's magics were bound to you, Paloma. And now, they've...well, they seem to have melted together. I've managed to unwind Keth's and Windleaf's magics from the mix, though there are still traces of their magics burned into the mess that your magic has become."

"Yes," Keth said drily. "I've noticed I can no longer hear their thoughts in my head." He nodded at the three younger students.

"So what are you saying?" Evvy frowned. "That our magics are messed up now?"

Sandry sighed again. "As I know you've been told, when Briar, Daja, Tris, and I were about your age, I wound our magics together. Several months later, I had to weave our magics to mostly separate them again, though I left traces of each of our magics together."

"So you're saying that you just have to weave our magics, and we'll have our own magics back?" Pasco asked, crinkling his forehead.

"No. This is different...whatever happened in there...it's like your magics have been _burned_ together. They're no longer three separate strands of magic-they're one thread that you three share. Whatever Paloma's magic consists of, and whatever happened to make that spell go awry-well, it looks like you're stuck sharing magics, now."

"You mean," Evvy said in disbelief, "that I'm not just a stone-mage anymore? I have _dancing_ magic? And...and I can absorb other people's magics, like Paloma?"

"Well...yes," Sandry said. "And Paloma now permanently has stone magic and dance magic, and Pasco can use both of your magics. Quite frankly, it's going to be very interesting learning how your magics work now-and seeing if you can use them all at once, though I'm guessing you can. And on top of that, you still have traces of lightning, glass, and healing magics-though from what I'm seeing, you have very little glass magic-mostly lightning and healing."

Evvy groaned. "You mean I'm stuck having them in my head?" She motioned Pasco and Paloma.

"You mean I'm going to be stuck listening to girls thoughts?" Pasco asked indignantly.

Briar grinned at him. "Welcome to my world."

"Sandry!" Pasco whined. "Are you sure you can't fix this?"

"Yes," Sandry said firmly. "We're just going to figure out how you're to be taught. I don't think I've ever heard of someone holding so many different magics...but you're going to have to learn control, mostly over stone magic, dancing magic, and Paloma's absorbing magic...as I said, there are only traces of lightning and healing, but enough that you will have to study them. I don't know if there's enough glass magic in there that you'll have to study it." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I wonder if Tris is staying around..."

"She's planning on it," Keth said. "She has a lot she wants to do here."

"Well, maybe she'll agree to help teach the lightning magic part of this...and Briar-"

Briar heaved a sigh. "I know, I know...I've been teaching Evvy stone magic, so I might as well start a whole class, right?" He rolled his eyes.

"I'll help with the dancing teaching, though we're going to have to see about getting Evvy enrolled in the dance academy..."

"What?" Evvy exclaimed. "No, no, no. Stones is one thing. Dancing is something else entirely." She looked pleadingly at Briar. "Tell her, Pahan Briar. I don't dance_._

Briar looked at her sympathetically. "Time to start, Evvy."

"But it's not fair! I didn't ask for my magic to be...to be all melted together-especially not with theirs." Evvy glared at Pasco and Paloma.

"Well, it's not like I asked for it, either," Pasco snapped.

"It's all my fault," Paloma said miserably.

"Now, stop it, all three of you," Sandry told them firmly. "It was an accident, and I'm sure you'll learn to live with it in time. I'm sorry it happened, but it will all work out. You'll see." She suddenly felt very, very tired. It had been a long, long week, and she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a couple of days. She couldn't, though. She had far too much to do. "Now, as for healing magic, I'm sure we can get one of the Healers at Winding Circle to help on that end...and as for absorbing other peoples' magics...we'll just have to take that one step at a time, since no one's quite sure how it works, and it's not a magic we've ever heard of."

They were saved from further conversation when one of the servants entered. "Your eminence." He bowed. "The Mage Daja Kisubo has returned and wishes to speak with you." He stepped aside, and before Daja entered, a huge white blur ran into the room and almost knocked Sandry off of her feet.

"Little Bear!" she cried happily, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around the squirming, squealing dog.

"Little?" Pasco whispered.

"Well, he was little once," Briar said, eyes twinkling. He stroked the dog's fur and sighed happily. "I've never been so happy to see him."

"I don't think he's ever been quite so happy to see you, either," Daja said in an amused voice, entering the room. "Except perhaps for the time you were locked away during the Bluepox Plague." At her side was a little girl with dark curls. She saw Keth and broke away from Daja, running over and clinging to Keth's legs. She peered out from behind him and smiled shyly at the rest of the group.

"By your leave, I'm going to help in the aftermath on the streets," Windleaf said, bowing to Sandry.

"Of course," Sandry smiled. "Thank you for all your help."

As the Healer left, Daja said, "This is Glaki-the mage child in Tris's care. And this is Chime."

In all the excitement of Little Bear's entrance, Sandry had failed to notice the small glass creature on Daja's shoulder. Now she gasped in wonder and stepped forward. It was indeed a dragon. "He's beautiful," she whispered, stroking the dragon's head. The creature positively purred. "You made him?" she asked Keth.

Keth nodded in affirmation. "Her," he corrected. "On accident."

Briar eyed the dragon quizzically. "Her?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

Keth grinned. "Master Niko insisted."

Briar laughed and shook his head with a smile. "Of course," he said.

Evvy and Paloma had both stepped forward to look at the dragon. "So...if our magics are melted...you said we had some glass magic," Evvy began. "Could we make something like this?"

"I don't know," Sandry admitted. "It will be very interesting, finding out what your magic can do now." She thought of everything she had been through with Daja, Tris, and Briar. _"Very_ interesting indeed."

Things moved very quickly the next couple of days. A proper funeral and memorial service were held for Duke Vedris IV. The event had been postponed in the circumstances surrounding the merchant strike and the murder trial. It was a relief to put all of the loose ends of the horrid week to rest at last, with the burial of Duke Vedris, even though it was the hardest thing Sandry had ever done. She still missed her uncle fiercely, but she knew that in time, she would heal-just as she had when her parents had died.

Things continued to get cleaned up in Summersea. Sandry, as Duchess, officially had Haman sentenced to life in a nearby magic-blocking prison. He was charged with murder of the Duke of Emelan, intent to murder, conspiracy, thievery of a child's magic, falsifying the truth, and gross misconduct as a mage.

As for Penmic's roll in the whole matter, he revealed to Daja that he had simply been going on personal belief and instinct.

Four days after the battle, the Healer that had been attending Tris found Sandry signing a huge stack of papers at her desk. "Duchess," the Healer said, looking extremely harrassed. "I'm sorry to bother you, but Mage Trisana has awakened. She's...being rather difficult. She's still too weak to get out of bed..."

Sandry held up a hand. "Say no more. I'll see to Tris. Thank you," she said firmly. The Healer looked relieved. Sandry headed upstairs to Tris's room, mind-calling Daja and Briar. _The storm has awakened,_ she told them amusedly. Chuckling, they both assured her they would meet her there.

When Sandry arrived in Tris's room, she found Keth, Glaki, and Chime were already there. Chime was settled on Tris's shoulder, and Keth was sitting beside her bed. Glaki was bouncing on the end of Tris's bed, talking a mile a minute about everything she had seen in the castle.

"And there are these kitties that I get to play with. They're not mine, though. They're Evvy's," she told Tris solemnly.

Tris rubbed her forehead. "That's nice, Glaki. Now _sit,_ please. Beds are not for jumping on," she told the child firmly.

Glaki immediately plopped down on her bottom, without breaking stride in her mantra. "And one of them is named Moss, and there's another one called Nim, and they like playing with string."

"'Morning, Tris. Nice to see you awake," Sandry said cheerfully.

"Sandry. Where is Haman?"

Right to the point. That was so like Tris. Sandry glanced at Keth, who shrugged. "I just got here. I haven't had time to tell her anything."

Sandry proceeded to tell Tris what had happened after the battle-about the merging of the magics, and about Haman's sentencing. She was in the middle of explaining that Pasco, Paloma, and Evvy now had lightning magic as part of their meld when Briar and Daja came into the room.

"Coppercurls!" Briar grinned. He stepped forward and leaned down to pull Tris into a hug. The redhead waved him off. "Umph! Briar!" But she had a grin on her face.

When he stepped back, Daja took his place. "Glad you're home, merchant girl."

"I'm glad to be home," Tris sighed happily. "Even though I would have been much happier if it wasn't for Haman. Honestly, so much for a nice, relaxing homecoming."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, there's a big ball planned for next week," Sandry told her, eyes twinkling.

Tris made a face. "A ball?"

Sandry laughed. "It wasn't my idea." The truth was, she didn't feel much like celebrating. Yes, Haman had been defeated, and yes, Summersea was getting back in order...but her uncle was still dead. Nothing could bring him back.

Tris rolled her eyes. "Now, what were you saying about your students and lightning?"

"Keth's lightning magic," Sandry told her. "Pasco, Evvy, and Paloma now have Keth's lightning magic. I don't suppose you're up for teaching more than one student lightning magic?"

Tris looked at Keth sharply, and he shrugged. Tris groaned and leaned her head back on her pillow. "Haman," she growled. "If he wasn't in prison..." she began, but left it up to them to decide just what she would do with him.

:-:-:

The next week passed in a blur. Sandry felt that she barely had a free moment. All of the mages were pressed into work, work, and more work. In some ways, Sandry was glad for it. It kept her mind off of everything-her uncle's death and her newfound feelings for Briar, to name a few.

She still hadn't really faced Briar. For one thing, there hadn't been any time, but more than that, she just wasn't ready yet. It was odd- she remembered how the night before her uncle's murder it had been _Briar_ who was unwilling to talk. Now she sensed their roles were reversed. It seemed that years had passed since then, not mere weeks, and her life was completely different. She needed time to adjust, and Briar seemed to understand that. When she did run into him, he never pushed her, but the issue was always there, unspoken. When she was ready, so would he be.

Niko arrived in Emelan four days after Tris woke up. When he learned of everything that had happened, he paid a trip to Haman's cell. Sandry didn't know what was said or done between the two mages, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. The look on Niko's face when he had learned what Haman had done had been quite enough for her imagination.

When Niko came back from talking to Haman, he stopped in front of Sandry and put a finger on her chin, looking deeply into her eyes. "You've done an amazing job, Sandrilene. I'm proud of you. You've shown yourself a true mage, and a true duchess. I know that your Uncle Vedris would be proud of you."

Sandry's chin trembled. "Truly?" she whispered.

"Truly," Niko said firmly.

Tears welled up in Sandry's eyes, and before she realized she was doing it, she had thrown herself against Niko. Burying her face in his robes, she burst into tears. Niko held her and let her cry herself out-all of the pains, frustrations, and the deep, deep well of hurt that came from the Duke's death. Everything she had been holding back since Briar's return came pouring out.

She wasn't sure how long she cried, and she didn't care. Finally, worn out, she pulled away from Niko. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely.

Niko looked on her kindly. "You're welcome."

Before Sandry knew it, the ball was upon her, giving the people of the Citadel and the city a much-needed lift of spirits. The kitchen staff outdid itself creating an array of titillating dishes, and the room was increasingly full of dancing and light and laughter as the night progressed. Despite the festive atmosphere, however, Sandry eventually felt the need to get away. In the hectic time since her uncle's death, she hadn't gotten a whole lot of rest, surviving mostly on stress and adrenaline. Now that the crisis was over, she felt an overwhelming weariness come upon her.

Ducking into a private antechamber, she sank into a large, comfortable chair and closed her eyes in delight. How wonderful it would be to have an unburdened sleep tonight! If her uncle's funeral had been a closing point of sorts, today's ball signified a beginning.

Paloma had said that originally the murder had been planned for both of them, her and her uncle. The thought frightened her a little bit. Holding such a position of power as she did, the fear was not one that could altogether be quelled. The threat of assassination was something she would need to learn to cope with.

As ridiculous as it seemed, she also felt feelings of guilt over having escaped the murder when her uncle had not. Part of her wished she had been here, wondering if she would have been able to prevent the horrors. But she knew it was more likely that she too would have been killed. What would have happened to Emelan? She had a feeling that Haman would not have lasted long against the combined efforts of her friends, even without her help, but her people would have suffered more.

The weight of crisis had been lifted from Sandry's shoulders, for now, but the weight of responsibility had not. Now that Summersea's state was again stable, she had to look to the future.

"Gods help me," she whispered quietly into the air.

So wrapped up was she in her thoughts, that she did not hear the quiet footfall that stirred to join her.

"Who are you hiding from?"

She looked up to see Briar standing over her, smiling mischievously.

There it was again. Briar's smile. Since he had returned, it had been causing strange, foreign sensations in her stomach and her skin. Whether it was a wide grin like it was now, or the sad smile he'd given her in his prison cell, his eyes so full of meaning, she could not remain unaffected.

"I'm not hiding," she said primly. "I'm resting."

"Ah." He took a seat beside her. "Well, I daresay no one's earned it more."

Sandry's fingers began fidgeting in her lap. His closeness was making her heart beat faster. He smelled… rich and musky, like ivy.

"Like you haven't?" she asked him in mild retort. "I think being falsely accused of murder, escaping from prison, and fighting to prove my innocence would probably make a person very tired."

"Maybe," he agreed with a nod, "but I don't feel tired." He shrugged.

Sandry couldn't help but notice that Briar's hands too were fidgeting. He kept rubbing his palms nervously together. Studying his hands, she noticed something interesting.

"That one's new," she blurted out.

"What?" he asked. Naturally, he wouldn't know what she was referring to.

She reached over and pointed at a large, elegant rosette that had blossomed among the other imprints on his right palm. "This one. I don't remember it. It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he said slowly, "that one started growing right after…" he trailed off, with a slightly embarrassed tone.

"After?" she repeated, confused.

"When you…" he began, and faltered slightly. "That time you were holding my hand. In Tris's room."

"Ah," said Sandry. Then she too blushed.

"Which makes sense, I guess," he added bravely. "I did use your needles, after all."

Briar had to flinch away, a gleeful twinkle in his eye, as Sandry's small hand struck him good-humoredly on the shoulder.

"You rascal!" she cried. "You're talking about my good silver ones, aren't you? I wondered where they had gone."

Briar's smile could probably not have been any greater. "Well, sorry milady, I guess it was my upbringing. Once a thief, always a thief, you know."

Sandry raised her eyebrows. "Should I lock up the treasury where you can't find it?"

"No, your money does not interest me," he said loftily.

"Well, you just implied that you're still a thief. I am the Duchess now, after all. I need to be concerned about these things. What should I worry about you stealing?" She turned her head to look up at him, smiling.

"Oh," said Briar offhandedly, "…things." Then he leaned down.

Sandry was so surprised, that for a moment, she was able to do nothing more than try to register what was happening.

Briar was kissing her. Eyes still open, she forced her mind to focus on the thought. Then she smiled, a rather tricky action in the current circumstances, and realized that right now was probably not the moment to be thinking too hard. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the new experience.

His wonderful smell filled her senses, his lips were warm and strong, and the fingers that soon reached up to hold her chin sent little shivers down her spine.

All too soon, however, he broke off. His face was perfectly serious as his beautiful eyes searched her face, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Oh," she said finally, continuing their conversation from a moment before. "Well, master thief… I salute you." A small smile slowly started playing at the corners of Briar's mouth. "I take it," Sandry added teasingly, "that you've done that before?"

Briar's eyes widened for a second, but then he grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Once or twice."

"Oh," she said again. Then she again blushed and averted her eyes. "Well, I haven't," she said in a small, embarrassed voice.

Now it was Briar's turn to be really surprised. "You're kidding," he said in disbelief. "A girl as pretty and nice as you?"

"A girl who's oblivious!" replied Sandry, defending herself. Briar laughed. "Anyway," she added, "everyone's too afraid to show interest in the Duke's niece. He was very intimidating. I think he protected me from a great deal." She smiled shyly at Briar. "Maybe a little too well."

He smiled back. "I'll tell you one thing, though," he said, shifting his entire body to better face her, and lowering his voice, "Sandry, I've kissed other girls before, but this…" he leaned forward experimentally and tried it again. It was shorter, but just as sweet as the first. "This is different," he finally said.

"Why?" she asked in breathless wonder.

"Because," he said, reaching up and playing with the wisps of hair around her face, "you're the bravest, sweetest, most caring person I've ever met. Not to mention the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Because the thought that you may feel the same feelings for me thrills and terrifies me. Because…" he paused, and took a deep breath, looking straight into her eyes, "Because I love you."

After a moment's heavy pause, Sandry managed to find her voice. "I told you," she said slowly, "that I didn't realize how much I really missed you until you came back. And then you were taken away again so quickly…" she paused, and tears began forming up in her eyes. "I was so heartsick, Briar. The thought of losing you…"

She reached up her hand and gently combed her fingers through his cropped curls. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, please don't go away again. My heart needs you."

He leaned in and captured her mouth in his again, and this time she held nothing back. Her first hand was already in his hair and the other soon joined it. His arms encircled her tightly, and for several joyous, rapturous moments she felt so safe and so loved.

Suddenly, Sandry broke off with a giggle.

"What's so funny?" Briar asked, bewildered.

"I think," she said slyly, taking a quick, calculative kiss, then smiling, "that you've been eating something with cinnamon in it."

Briar burst out laughing. "Maybe you're right," he said with a grin. "Just be glad it wasn't something with onions."

"Yuck, no kidding. You'd not have gotten very far in such a case."

Briar grinned again, and leapt off the settee. "You wanna go dance?" he asked, holding out a hand to her.

She took it and looked at him suspiciously. "What, so Pasco can tease you? You aren't the world's greatest dancer, Briar Moss." She took his hand and he helped her up.

He leaned in. "I'm not thinking about Pasco Acalon, Sandrilene fa Toren," he whispered in a low voice.

She blushed. "No, probably not." Then she sighed. "I wish I could, but unfortunately, I'm still in mourning." She indicated her fine black linen gown. "No dancing for quite some time."

Briar looked genuinely crestfallen.

"But the unexpected taste of cinnamon is making me hungry," she prompted him with a smile. "I haven't eaten yet."

His face brightened considerably. The thought of food always had this effect on Briar. He held out an arm. "My lady?" he asked chivalrously.

Sandry beamed, and took it. "Yes," she said. "Your lady. Only yours. That I promise you, now and forever."

As they headed for the ballroom, Sandry murmured, "You know Daja and Tris are going to tease us endlessly about this. Once Tris gives us numerous of 'I can't believe you didn't tell me!' lectures. You sure you can handle it?"

"Are you kidding? After everything we've been through?" Briar gave her his quirky grin. "I can handle anything with you by my side." They went through the doors and again entered the festive air. "Now, come on. Let's get some food. Next time we have a ball, though, I have to show Evvy that dancing isn't as bad as she makes it out to be."

Smiling in return, Sandrilene fa Toren allowed Briar Moss to lead her across the room.

:-:-:

"Well," said Daja at Tris's side, "I guess Lark and Rosethorn were right, after all."

"What's that?" asked Tris. She looked up from where she'd been trying to disentangle Chime from her skirts, who seemed to have them confused with a ladder.

Daja nodded across the ballroom. "Sandry and Briar, look."

Tris followed Daja's gaze, and there saw Briar and Sandry standing by the banquet table. It took her a moment to realize what Daja was commenting on, and she goggled. Briar was holding Sandry's hand and whispering something into her ear which made her blush and smile, ducking her head shyly. Then Sandry looked at Briar with an expression that couldn't be called much else but rapturous. "Oh, great. Just what we needed," Tris mumbled. "Lark and Rosethorn knew about this?" she added, a little grouchily. If they had been keeping her in the dark...

"They suspected. To be honest, with everything's that been going on, I sort of forgot about it." Daja peered more closely at the expression on Tris's face. "Does it really bother you that much?"

Tris paused, considering. There had been a short period in her life where she might have been envious of Sandry- a childhood crush on Briar that had quite evaporated over the course of her journey, but that had nothing to do with the sense of sadness inside her (which she was trying valiantly to hide with a crabby attitude) At last she sighed. "No," she said finally. "I suppose not. I mean, one way or another, it was inevitable, you know? We'd all grow up, and have other people in our lives. I just kind of wish things would've just stayed the same for a little longer."

"True," Daja agreed. "But this isn't the only kind of thing that has been changing, Tris." She waved a hand at Pasco and Paloma, who were dancing and laughing together on the floor. Tris was quite sure the girl hadn't smiled so much since she'd met her. Evvy looked on, scowling. "Our students, our journeys. We've already been growing up. Our circle has been shifting, and will continue to do so." She smiled. "But it will never be broken."

Tris couldn't help but also smile. "Yes, of course, you're right." She glanced again at Sandry's face and wrinkled her nose. "You do realize, though, that they're going to be absolutely unbearable to be around for awhile, right? I mean, just _look_ at them. They're giving me a stomachache."

Daja laughed. "Tell me about it. Despite our _very_ mature acceptance of the situation, we will be honor-bound to razz them about all this for at least... three weeks or so."

"Four," Tris said, grinning manically. "It will be perfect revenge for everything Briar's done to us over the years."

"And Sandry for falling for such a silly boy in the first place."

"Agreed. Although- " Tris reflected, "all joking aside, maybe it's best this way. Think about it- if Briar found some other girl, some person we didn't know, can you imagine how strange it would be for her?"

Daja nodded. "I'm afraid it would be very difficult for us to extend our approval of her. We're his sisters after all."

Tris laughed and coughed. "I don't think Sandry's going to be calling herself that anymore," she pointed out meaningfully.

"Oh, like you're one to talk."

"What do you mean?

"Just how much longer are you going to be willing to be a _teacher_ to a handsome, talented, sensible mage who's older than you?" Daja very pointedly did not look at Tris as she asked, this, but the twinkle in her eyes was unmistakable.

Tris was appalled to find herself blushing. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about, Daja Kisubo."

"Haha. I've seen the way Keth watches you."

"Well, you're wrong. Keth was in love with a dancer when I met him." She winced at the sound of regret in her voice. "Well," she amended, "maybe not love, but I think it definitely could have gone that way."

"Why didn't it?"

"She died."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I don't think he'll be jumping at the bit to fall all over some other person just yet. _Not_," she added hastily, "that I'm saying I would want him too."

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up, Daja."

"Excuse me," said a new voice. Both girls turned to see Morer Penmic standing behind them, looking very dashing indeed in his formal dress uniform. "I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I wondered if Mage Daja might like to accompany me in a quick dance or two?"

Tris turned to Daja with a very superior expression, raising her eyebrows meaningfully, and was delighted to see that her friend's embarrassment quite matched that she'd just caused Tris. "I'm sure Mage Daja would love to do so, Captain Penmic," she said in her sweetest voice. "If you'll excuse me." She gracefully extracted herself from the conversation, leaving a half-pleased, half-fuming Daja alone with the Captain and smiled.

Chime was once again making her presence known with her tinkly-sounding roars, and Tris plucked her off her shoulder, bringing her around to stare in to her glass eyes. "Shifting Circles, indeed, Chime. The world will never be the same."

She headed off for her chambers, deciding that it was high time Chime went to sleep. "And Daja was quite wrong about Keth, you know," she said, in a voice that might have convinced glass dragons, but nobody else.


End file.
